Expectations
by Vergil Vanire's Paper Heart
Summary: If someone told you my Senior year of high school was a happy tale, somebody lied to you. You never know when some lunatic will come along and fuck everything up in the most sadistic way he can. (Leon/Cloud)
1. Chapter 1

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

From the moment you were known to exist, people have had expectations of you.

You were expected to play football, to get good grades, to graduate at the top of your class, to be popular and have likewise friends, and to marry a woman before your parents kick the bucket.

But you play volleyball, your grades never get above B's, while you're going to graduate you're no valedictorian, you have no friends forget about popular, you hook up with men on the weekends, and you have no intention of getting married. Ever.

Your parents think you're a failure, your teachers think you're depraved, your classmates think you're a 'kick me' sign, the school resource officer thinks you're a delinquent, and society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think. But I see you lying there, bloodied, bruised, and barely breathing, and I _know_ I have to help you. You're just as human as I am, and you're reputation doesn't matter to me.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, first chapter. I'd love to have feedback (:


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

I try not to hurt you, though I doubt you're lucid enough to feel it, anyway. When I set you in the passenger seat, you raise a hand, as if in protest. I hold your hand for a second, but you probably don't notice. You're leaning on the door when I get in. I brush some hair from your face and you seem to look at me for a split second and _smile_. I reason it must be my imagination, because not even Yuffie would be able to smile with bruises and cuts like that in torn up clothes in the middle of Fall after being left in the cold for probably the entire game. No way at all. Then your eyes close.

I should take you to the hospital. I should call your parents and take you to the hospital. But the entirety of the town has something against you, and the hospital staff are no exception. You wouldn't exactly be provided reprieve, if any care at all. Besides that, I already have enough medical supplies to patch you up. Finding a bit of middle ground, I decide to call your parents, but take care of you. Your phone only has four contacts, with a couple questionable names: Aerith, Evil Whore, Roxas, and Satan. Aerith is the school counselor, and I don't know who Roxas is, so I assume the other two are your mother and father. I decide to give Evil Whore a try.

"What do you want?" a female voice snaps after a few rings.

"Is this Mrs. Strife?"

"Yes. _What do you want_?" she repeats.

"I'm with your son, Cloud an-"

"That _thing_ is not my son!"

_Click._

_Well, so much for letting his parents know..._ I think.

Putting your phone back in your jacket, I spare you one last concerned glance before driving to my apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

It's late when I finish cleaning your wounds, almost midnight. On a Sunday. When I have a test tomorrow. With you in my bed. Well, at least I can say I did something with my weekend. You're pretty beat up, but nothing was broken, thankfully, because it doesn't sound like your mother would have granted permission to treat you if you needed hospitalization. I guess I was gentle, as you haven't woken up. I put the first blanket on you to give you modesty, the next two because you haven't stopped shivering since I found you. You have a mild fever -confirmed by a rather questionable thermometer that I never had a reason to bother replacing- but there's not much I can do about that, so I open my laptop with the hope of studying.

I decide on staying home tomorrow, since you probably need someone to monitor your condition if the fever gets worse. I only send a couple emails, as a senior I only have three classes and only one of the teachers needs informing. So, Mr. Hewley and my boss, Cid. Then, I try to study. Really, I do, but my eyes keep wandering back to you if they're not trying to close. Your eyes are open the next time my gaze crawls back to your face, and we drowsily delve into one another's souls. It's enough to energize me for approximately five minutes.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just cold," you yawn, curling further into yourself as if to emphasize the point. "Where am I?"

"My apartment. And, sorry, this building's heating is out, so I only have blankets," I apologize, kneeling at the side of the bed. "You're pretty beat up, mind explaining?"

"Seifer and his gang were picking on my little brother, so I got him out, but had to deal with them. You're Squall Leonhart, right?"

"Call me Leon. And, of course, everyone knows you, Strife."

"You shouldn't call me that, the birth givers wouldn't approve."

"Birth givers? That's a new one," I laugh.

"It's the closest thing I can get to without saying they're my parents. You know, since they're not." You pause. "Why did you help me, Leon? I thought you didn't care about anything. That's why I thought it was funny when we were in your car. I thought I was imagining it."

_Oh? I guess he was smiling._ "That's just the way people see me. No one ever gets close enough to know, but there is one thing I care about: helping the people who need it."

"So, what? You're my knight in shining armor, now?" you smile, laughingly.

"If that's how you want to see it."

We smile at each other a few moments before you look a little awkward, like you just realized where you are. "I should move to the couch," you say, starting to get up.

I just press you further into the bed. "You have so many bruises and gashes on your back, trust me: you _don't _want to sleep on the couch."

"But this is your house," you protest.

"If you feel that bad about it, we can share the bed. If I could fit my little brother, his best friend and myself on it at once, we should have no problem by ourselves."

"O-okay," you agree, scooting closer to the wall. I don't miss the pink tint you gain when I abandon my shirt, but I don't think much of it because I'm so tired I don't have the energy to care as long as it's not an uncomfortable blush, which it doesn't seem to be.

A few moments pass and, even though we're back to back, I can tell you're having trouble falling back to sleep. I turn to face you, well, your back. "Something on your mind, tough guy?"

"...I can't go back to my mom's house anymore. Or my dad's," you say, turning to me.

I prop myself up on my arm. "Anything I can do to help?'

You seem to think it over for a minute, so long I don't know if you're going to answer. "In the most heterosexually platonic way, would you hold me until I fall asleep?"

I'm slightly shocked by your answer, but I don't know why I should be. I smile after a moment -which I've done more of tonight than I have in the past year- and wrap you up in my arms, not really caring if I get your fever at this point. "You can stay here as long as you need, but you'll have to help out here and there," I offer.

"Thank you, Leon."

* * *

Author's Note: Oh, they're so sweet, aren't they? Little OOC, but, hey, it's cute. Feedback keeps the story going~~~


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

When I wake up, I feel a chest against my own, the smooth skin of someone's back at my right hand and soft hair in my left. The body is warm, probably warmer than it should be. But I'm too tired to really be able to put the pieces together. Give me a break, I mean the mid-season scrimmage was last night, I have bruises _all_ over, and I just took in some kid who got beat up. There is no reason anyone shou-

Wait, I did _what_?

I open my eyes. Yup. I did. Maybe I got a concussion, last night. _Hey, he's a nice kid! A nice kid who could have gotten really sick without you, I mean, who else was going to disinfect all those cuts and keep him warm last night? Where would he have gone? Who would take him in? Not his parents! _That's right, you're staying here a while, huh? Maybe I should ask Cid if he has a spare bed he'll let me borrow... But I don't really have room for that, I guess. Not in a one-room apartment with this small a bedroom.

You're still sound asleep, and I debate on if I should wake you up or not, because you should probably take something for that fever, considering how flushed your face it. But you need to rest and all I really have is Ibuprofen and Nyquil. Maybe I should go to the store to find something else... I don't really notice that I'm running my finger nails over your side until you're..._giggling_?! I put my hand over my mouth to stop from making any noise laughing. You snuggle closer at the loss of contact, head in the crook of my neck. I've never really been interested in anyone, boy or girl. A good question might be: why would you bring that up? Well, it has a rather simple answer: that I just confused myself. See, I could swear that some part of my mind called you 'cute,' right then. And you know what? That part of my mind would be absolutely, positively, unquestionably, one-hundred percent right. But that's rather Earth-shattering for me, because I don't find things to be _cute_. Even when they are, I don't really notice, so, forgive me if I find that a little unusual and blame it on sleep deprivation. I put my arm around you again.

We can rest a while longer...

* * *

Waking up the second time isn't nearly as sweet, because you're writhing, tossing, turning, and thrashing in just about every direction possible without knocking either of us to the floor. "Cloud!" You don't wake up. I grip your shoulders, shaking you a little. "Cloud!" Your eyes open, but you don't really seem to notice anything but your fear for a moment. "You're okay," I coo, stroking your cheek. "You're okay, Cloud. Everything is fine. You're with me. I'm here, you're okay." You try to take a deep breath, but it's shaky. "Cloud, What is your pant size?"

You look a little thrown off, but answer: "Twenty-eight. Why?"

I sigh. "The smallest thing I have for you is probably a thirty-two. Maybe a thirty, if we're lucky. The shower's on the other side of the living room, the white towel hanging up hasn't been used, yet. I'm going to look for something you can wear, then we're going to the store. Don't sweat about your bandages; they're waterproof."

I'm still digging around in my closet when you emerge fifteen minutes later because I've found plenty of thirty-twos, but there has to be a pair of thirties in there, somewhere; my hips didn't stop widening _that_ long ago... Thirty-four, thirty-two, thirty-two, thirty-six (do _I_ even fit in those, yet?), thirty-four... _There_ they are. I toss them to you (poor thing, stuck in such a thin towel). "Boxers, or briefs?"

"That's not even something I tell my _boyfriends_," you joke. I give an amused smirk, to which you smile. "Boxers."

"Could have guessed," I tease.

"Huh, why's that?"

"You were commando when I found you, of _course_ you'd want something you don't really feel is there." You look away, blushing at being so thoroughly embarrassed, the boxers hitting you in the face, as you weren't paying attention. I continue rummaging through the closet, finding my smallest belt easily, knowing it by heart, as it's also my favorite. I pick a shirt at random, they're mostly the same size and we're not too far apart in that department, which turns out to be a black and white striped long sleeve with thumb-holes. I go the extra mile to hand you these ones, not wanting you to get hit by the belt.

"Studded black leather?" you question, pulling the belt on.

"Freshman year was a bad time for me," I explain.

"Sure, it was for all of us, but I never would have pinned you as a studded-belt-guy," you muse, synching the belt. _Hmm a perfect fit..._

I lift my shirt up, exposing exactly what kind of belt-guy I am. "Most people wouldn't," I smirk.

"I think we could be really good friends," you smile.

I put a hand over my heart in mock hurt. "And here I was thinking we were. Already had our first slumber party and everything," I laugh breaking the façade.

"You're the coolest," you say, reaching for your tattered, blue and black jacket.

"Ah, ah, ah," I pull you by the shoulder. "It's too cold for that."

"Then what do you propose?"

I stroke a make-believe (because first: I would never keep one going, and second: for some reason it's genetically impossible for me to grow one) mustache for comical effect, which you smile at. "What indeed..." I snap my fingers, "I've got it!" I travel back to the closet, looking through my jacket section. I pull out a smooth, black, pleather coat that ends about mid thigh, with a high collar that buttons around the collar-bone vicinity, and a lace texture in darker black. I hold it up for your viewing. "What do you think?"

Your eyes widen. "You would let me wear that?"

"I would let you _have_ it, if you want. Haven't touched it since ninth grade," I inform.

"I love it!"

"Great, then I won't have to buy you another one for a while," I say, draping it over your shoulders and pulling on one with white faux-fur at the collar, the one I wear just about every day. "We're off to see the wizard, now. And, by 'wizard,' I mean 'Rite-Aid and Ross.' With a good chance of Hot Topic, since they're having a sale right now and I have gift cards."

* * *

Author's Note: Yup, Cloud was commando. Which, as you all know, means Leon saw his junk xD Well, this chapter was fun to write, I hope you enjoyed~~~


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

"**If you don't want to read Leon's shower scene, skip over the double line** **breaks!** (But, honestly, who doesn't? xD Nothing too descriptive, this is a T fic)

* * *

"Shouldn't we look at the directions, first?"

"Cloud, it's _aspirin_. Regular strength, everyday use, _aspirin_. You know how my mom used to measure doses of aspirin? She took at hand full and threw it at us. Whatever stuck, that was the dose."

"You _are _kidding, right?"

"Well, yeah, that was an exaggeration, but it's _aspirin_. You take two, just like any other non-prescription pain-killing inflammatory."

"But-"

"Let me see it," I demand, rolling my eyes. "Okay, pop quiz time. How much do you weigh?"

"Uhh, hundred thirty, hundred thirty-five pounds?"

"How tall are you?"

"Five, six..."

"Stop looking uncomfortable with your answers. There's no shame in any of that. How old-..."

"What, is something wrong?"

"Well, if we were to go by your other answers, I would be right; two tablets. But if you really want to play 'follow the directions' hardcore, then: 'not for use of those under the age of eighteen.'"

"Ugh, that's two years away, it'll be fine. Hand 'em over." I pop two out, handing them to you with the bottle of lemonade we'd been sharing.

"Your fever's already gone down since you woke up this morning, it should dissipate completely in a couple days."

"Did you really take my temperature in my sleep?"

"With your underarm, Cloud. It's not like it was used on your mouth after toddlers or something. Besides," I lower my voice, "Last night while I was fixing you up, I saw you _completely_ indecent. Does taking your temperature really seem so embarrassing?"

"Plenty of men have seen me naked. You're the only one who saw me like that to _help _me. It's a little unusual, if I may say so."

"Well, get used to it, because as long as you're living with me, you're going to be taken care of, worried about and befriended. Just as long as you don't tell anyone about what a big softie I am when it comes to blonds who need rescuing," I tease, tussling your hair.

"It's a promise!" you laugh, brightly.

"Glad we're understood. C'mon, let's get you some clothes of your own." _Even if I think you look fantastic in mine,_ I mentally shake my head trying to get that thought out. Not that it isn't true, because I've always found people more attractive wearing my clothes, like a public declaration they were admitting they belong to me. I guess I'm rather possessive.

"This place is pretty big."

"That's because it's made up mostly of women's clothing. Since they have more sections than men. They keep the dresses, gym clothes, and nightwear separate. They also have a special section for tank tops, for whatever reason."

"That's weird."

"I never said I understood, only that I knew."

"We should start with underwear."

I smirk at you.

"If I'd had any clean boxers last night, I'd've worn them. You think I'd go without in pants that tight unless I had good reason?" you whisper.

"What about less tight pants?"

Your turn to smirk, I suppose. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

I smile. "You're learning. Hold my hand, the cashier's looking at us funny."

"Won't that make it worse?"

"I just like pissing her off."

"Once again, I have a feeling about our friendship," you say, leaning on me while we walk. "But I suppose that's natural, as you're my only -and, therefore, best- friend."

"The feeling is mutual."

"You're different, though, Leon."

"Oh? How so?"

"People would approach you, if you didn't look so pissed off all the time. You're a likeable person, people look up to you. I mean, you're a football star, you have almost straight A's, you're a good person with a great personality and an amazing sense of humor, not to mention you're drop-dead gorgeous," you look at me a little panicked. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"It's a compliment, I'm not about to get offended... Besides, you clean up pretty nice, too, Cloud. And I think people just misunderstand you; you're a neat kid."

"I'm glad you think so. No one else seems to..."

"That's because no one else cares. So you shouldn't care about them. Tell you what, when I move out of this hellhole, I'll take you with me. Then you can meet more people who would like you."

My little brother, Sora has an amazing set of puppy-eyes, but I must admit: yours are the best I've ever seen. "You're the best, Leon."

"Don't break down on me, now, tough guy," I laugh, ruffling your hair again. "Well, here we are; the expansive underwear section of _Ross: Dress for Less_. And, by 'expansive,' well, you know what I mean by that."

Because the section was so small, we didn't spend much time there, but did I did get the opportunity to jokingly point out a pair of Batman Beyond graphic boxers, to which you responded by donning a smug, 'shouldn't have even gone there' kind of look and tossing them in the basket. We walk out of the apparel store with six pairs of underwear, five pairs of jeans, and three shirts, getting nasty looks from the clerk with the next customers and a comment about Riku.

"We can go to Hot Topic next Friday, that's when I get paid. I don't really enjoy shopping for long, and it's already been almost an hour," I explain, unlocking your door.

"Fine by me, My feet were starting to hurt."

"Oh, that reminds me, did you need new shoes?"

"These are fine for all the things I need to do now."

"Alrighty," _Did I really just say that?..._ "Do you have any special eating habits?"

"Vegetarian and lactose intolerant," you say looking very uncomfortable.

"You're in my weights class..."

"Is there a point to that?"

"How do you keep your protein levels up as a vegetarian, exactly?"

"Soy. And it's not like I'm into high impact. I can only bench-press, like, sixty pounds. I joined the class because I hate running, but wanted some kind of exercise."

"That makes sense, I guess. I'm mostly into toning, myself. We're having noodles, then."

"Great."

* * *

You sleep a lot more easily tonight, caused by anything from having a new toothpaste, to feeling more comfortable. The most likely reasoning is because the aspirin brought your fever down. I'm hoping it will me gone in the morning, because I need to take that test, but I don't want to leave you alone while you're sick.

I can't sleep, though, for some reason. I know what that reason is, but I really don't want to have to admit it. See, I've never been good with feelings. I don't like to deal with them, which usually means: I don't. But I'm feeling insecure, because I don't know why I'm so...whatever it is around you. It's disgusting, the way I've been treating you, like a love-sick twelve-year-old. It makes me feel like something's wrong with me So, yeah, I'm not exactly a rock when it comes to emotion. But I don't normally have much emotion, because no one ever gets close enough to evoke it.

In fact, the last time I felt insecure about anything was in eighth grade. I was getting over the fear that people might look at me in the shower rooms. A lot of people _did_ look at me in the shower room, too, because for some reason, I was the only boy in the entire class who wanted to get clean after phys. ed. At least that fear was provoked. I don't know why I feel the way I do around you.

Tonight, I really do get some studying done. I guess after the first night, your form isn't so luring. Still, my eyes wander, from time to time. I'm finally feeling drowsy at eleven twenty-eight, and my body is where my eyes have been in this room, lately: the most interesting thing in the sparse room.

* * *

CLEON

* * *

I wake up around six thirty, and I'm very aware this time, because you were in my dreams and when I wake up -even though I did not fall asleep as such- you're in my arms, as well.

I decide to shower. Yeah, that's what I need: a nice, hot, distracting, relaxing, shower. Where you won't be with me.

Only, you _are _with me, because you won't get out of my mind. I try not to think about how you used probably everything that I'm using. About how we smell like each other now, from the scent of lavender soap, Tresemme shampoo and conditioner, and apricot facial moisturizer. But, I _am_ thinking about it, and my mind is quickly sinking to the darkest, most taboo things to me. The forbidden fruits have always been the sweetest, the most tempting, but not usually the ones I'm interested in. I'm not typically interested in anything.

If I were having any rational thought processes at that moment, it might occur to me that being alone for so long had finally caught up with me, that this is retribution.

But there's nothing rational about my mind in that twenty minute span, only the feeling of a dirtiness that a shower is not able to cleanse, repetition, and your name...

* * *

CLEON

* * *

"Cloud, I made pancakes." It's seven thirty when I wake you up, and I feel like a bad person. A very bad, bad person. Like I used you, even though you didn't partake in the issue. It only makes me feel worse when you open your eyes with a lazy grin directed at me, because you don't know about all the abuse I have on your image from forty minutes ago. But I do, and I feel sick about how you trust me so easily.

I don't feel very hungry after my excursion sunk in. When you question me about it, I lie and say I already ate. "Do you want soy or almond milk?"

"When did you get that?"

"I don't keep normal milk, it makes me sick. You know, as it's meant for six-hundred pound offspring, and all."

"Oh, I didn't know you were lactose intolerant, too."

"Learn something new every day."

"Soy, in that case."

I start to feel a little better, because things are still normal between us, just like when Zell told me about his fantasies of his best friend...who was me. Only, you don't know. And I'm not telling you. I promise my self I'll try to act more normal around you.

_Beep, beep. Beep, beep._

"What is it?'

"98.6."

"You're golden, let's get you to school."

Like I've been doing with everything else that doesn't fit in my life, I blame earlier on sleep deprivation. Because I'm not gay. _But you're not straight, either..._

* * *

Author's Note: Well, Squall seems to be having some issues. Happens to all of us, though...probably. Me, anyway. Well, the boys are going to school, and that's not going to be very cute, frankly. But, this is a romance story, so have no fear, they'll make it! Had trouble with the line breaks, hopefully this fixes it.

On another note, these chapters are getting so long! (2,036 words, last time I saved, on this chapter, alone!) Hope you enjoyed~~~


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

I don't feel so bad about leaving you alone with my number in your phone.

I study for the first thirty minutes of first period, getting a surprising amount of work done without you there to distract me. Then I start drawing. In reality, I hate Health class. Especially since it's my last required class. Seriously, it murdered our innocence in fifth grade, had kids having sex by seventh, we had to take a course on it in eighth grade, then ninth as a slap in the face. And now, for some reason, we need a refresher in our Senior year. What. The. Fuck? We've been living with our bodies in that class for seventeen to nineteen years, I'm pretty sure we all know what's down there by now.

As the drawing continues to grow, I stop paying attention. I think about what I'm going to do for my art final. Raasch doesn't give us much direction on it, I know this by now as it's my third year in advanced art with the same teacher. We can use any medium with any theme, and be as provocative as we want with it. It just has to mean something to us. That's where I get hung up. The first time, my theme was Matron, who raised me until she could find us a better home, which didn't turn out to be such a great home, after all. Last year it was Sora, my little brother. I've run out of things I care about.

I scribble out the drawing, which had turned into the lion on my ring surrounded by a light mist at some point, tossing it in the nearest garbage can.

* * *

Next period, I have weights with you, where I talk Rosie into letting you toss a medicine ball with me, because of your injuries. Bless her seventy-something-year-old soul. Really, I didn't want to spot you during squats, your injuries don't actually prevent you from lifting. It was weird, though. Neither of us seemed to know how to act, at school. A silent question impregnates the air: should our friendship be public, yet?

Our talking wasn't quite so comfortable in front of the others. Something about that was killing me.

* * *

Third period, and I'm in and out of the class in under fifteen minutes. On the 10th of every month, it's a make-up day, and I'm always excused if everything is turned in. Today is no exception. I plan to walk around the upper tiers of school when my phone rings.

_Can you make it to the  
auditorium in five minutes  
or less?  
~NotQuiteStrife~_

_Sure thing. Be there in a  
flash.  
-Lionhearted_

There aren't a whole lot of people there, but I'm pretty sure the people there are in the advanced drama class, judging by the size. I don't see any blond, spikey haired heads in the crowd, which leads me to wonder why you called me here. There is a black-haired man to stage left. He's not in the center, implying this isn't his show. A girl walks on stage (center stage, it's her show), with long blonde hair. She's rather tall, almost as tall as the violinist, and I doubt it's because of the heels, because they're perhaps two inches at most. _Why does he want me to see this?_ She wears a strapless, knee-high, ruffled, light purple dress that compliments her pale skin tone nicely. If I were a girl, I would be jealous. She grips the side of her dress in creamy white gloves, probably in anxiety, then releases it in a silent deep breath.

It's the thing she does next that makes me gasp.

"Good evening. I'm Cloud Strife, this is Sehris Moore, and we will be performing 'Out of the Darkness,'" she says, holding the microphone in her left hand.

Only, he is not a she. He is Cloud Strife. In a dress.

_Fucking mind terrorist._

I take a seat, perhaps too close to the front. You seem to smile directly at me. The violin chords start, and I don't seem to realize I'm caught in your web, yet. But, I do when I hear your voice, and part of me is sure you're an angel. Even if you're a mind terrorist.

_Out of darkness - Listen to my voice calling you_  
_Calling you out of darkness_  
_Hear the devils cry of sin_  
_Always turn your back on him_

I'm not sure what I've walked in on. I don't know how your voice can stay so high and beautiful, because I've been with you for about twenty-four hours and I have _not_ heard you sound like that, yet.

_With the wind you go and still_  
_I dream of your spirit leading you back home_  
_I will give my gifts to you_  
_While you're gone and watching on_

And this is a gift, if not just a total mind fuck. You must really trust me to show me this.

_The light in your eyes_  
_An angel of dark_  
_Lighting to ease the shadows' sight_  
_Hearts will grow, the heavens will play_  
_Leaving behind the things in the end_

_Listen to my voice calling you_  
_Calling you out of darkness_  
_Hear the devils cry of sin_  
_Always turn your back on him_  
_On him_  
_On him_

There are catcalls after a moment. Teasing ones. I hear clapping from a few embarrassed people, probably the girls in the class. I join in, too, but I mean it. I'm too shocked to really be able to gauge if that's a bad idea or not. My mind is only on one place: Cloud Strife in that dress. In that light purple, shimmering dress. With creamy-white gloves and short, black, pointed, sophisticated heels. And eyes accented by dark blue eye shadow, black eye-liner, and thick, long lashes, with glistening pink lips centimeters away. Forever questioning what was underneath, because that dress is too tight for boxers. My mind is going to be in that place a very, _very_, long time.

* * *

My mind knows nothing but you and that dress all next period, a free period. If I try to draw, that's what it turns into. If I try to write, that's what it's about. Skirts? Dresses. Flats? Heels. Ravenette? Blond. A girl in a pink dress? A boy in a purple one. I give up trying to do anything after thirty minutes of getting nowhere but creating at least ten pictures of you in a dress. In _that_ dress.

I just sit there and think until the bell rings. Thinking about you. In a dress.

* * *

The high school cafeteria is a dangerous place. If you're a bully, you're with your crew. If you're popular, you're with your clique. Band kid? Stick to band kids. But if you're a loner? You're alone. You can't sit with anyone without them being proclaimed your new boy/girlfriend by Seifer or a like-minded person. So, how do I operate the high school cafeteria without getting you picked on?

You're sitting at least three feet from anyone, everyone else talking too animatedly to notice anything. _C'mon,_ I mouth, inclining my head the slightest bit to the left and continue walking toward the Arts hallway. You stand after a moment, following at an inconspicuous distance. No one's in the hallway. Good. I duck into Raasch's room, holding the door for you.

"Why are we in the art room?"

"No one ever comes in here. Raasch leaves it unlocked in case we ever want to, but no one does," I explain.

"So, what you're saying is: it's the perfect place for me to privately model a dress for you?" you tease.

I'm sure my face goes more red than yours with that fever. I look away.

"That really got to you, didn't it?" you ask, bemused.

"It was...very attractive..." I admit, quietly.

"Better than Roy Mustang in a mini-skirt?"

"Sexier," I growl possessively, pushing you into the multi-stained counter. "Cloud, answer honestly. Are you, or aren't you playing with me?"

You chuckle, darkly. "I'd like to be."

Crashing our lips together, I press you further into the counter. After a moment, you're just as eager. Your hands move to my chest and I've never felt anything so intense, never felt so connected to anybody, especially not after two days. A hand leaves your shoulder to slide down to your hip, and I feel you wince, pulling back. I look at you questioningly, and you pale. I pull at your belt, sliding your pants down just enough to see a shoe-sized bruise on delicate skin. Definitely a new one. My anger is the only thing keeping me from realizing that I just did something very intimate. I refasten the belt, less tight than you had it, dragging you out of the classroom by the wrist, and outside to where Seifer usually had a smoke at lunch.

I let go of you, in favor of shoving him into the wall, Rai immediately rushing up to us. "What did you do?"

Seifer holds up a hand, as if calling his dog off. "What are you talking about?"

"What did you do to him? To Cloud, Seifer!"

He looks at me with the same expression a moment, slowly morphing halfway into understanding before turning completely sadistic. "You saw him naked, didn't you? Rai, Yuu, check it out, the _fearless_ cornerback is gay!"

"Disgusting."

"That's fucked, ya know?"

"This is serious, Seifer!"

"What are you going to do? Tell the counselor? Do you know what she's gonna do about it? She's gonna take it to the principal. You know what he's gonna do about it? Nothing," he leaned in, whispering the last word, like a secret.

My grip loosened in understanding. "There's nothing you can do for your boyfriend, Leon!"

I grit my teeth, landing a sharp left hook at his face. "Nhg!"

"Squall? What are you doing here?" Great. Rinoa. The last thing I need.

"We were just leaving," I say, throwing an arm around your waist and steering you away. If Seifer knows, the whole school is going to know. If you don't act ashamed, no one can pick on you.

"That's enough school for today."

_And by 'enough school,' I mean: 'enough Seifer.'_

* * *

I'd like to thank Jolly Big Sis for her continued support. Also, she was right on the money with her last review. I hope you all enjoyed Cloud in a dress, and Leon making his move (and, of course, Seifer getting punched in the face xD). Thank you for reading, I'd love feedback~~~


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

"So, exactly what part of 'call me if you need anything' did you not understand?" I ask, unlocking your door, feeling rather frustrated. "Did I need to emphasize _'anything_,' or should I have specified that Seifer beating you up is a problem?"

"By the time I could have possibly gotten to my phone, he'd already done that," you defend, dejected.

I get in the car, you following. I sigh, taking your hand. "Even if he's already done something, tell me. I'll take you to the nurse's office or something." You smile meekly. A thought occurs to me. "Cloud, let me see your arms." You look thrown off. I guess I'm not very good at explaining my questions. "Just do it." You comply, removing the jacket. I look at both arms, seeing a little road rash, but nothing unusual.

That's the problem.

"You don't have any defensive wounds," I say, looking back to your face with that look that implies I'm sad and confused about your actions. "Why would you let him do this to you?"

You wait so long to answer, I get the impression that you're not going to, so I start the car. "Seifer is hurting. He's hurting bad."

"That's not a reason to let him hurt you, Cloud."

"If He doesn't hurt someone, he hurts himself. It's not as simple as 'Seifer's a bully, Seifer's always been a bully, Seifer will always be a bully and there's no reason for it.' Seifer has problems, he has his own shit to deal with. I'm just kind of the perfect candidate to dump it on."

"What do you mean by 'he hurts himself?' I've never seen any marks on him."

"They're on his hips, you wouldn't see them unless you knew him very well."

"Then you and Seifer-"

"Not any more. Not for a very long time. We never did anything, either, for your peace of mind. We just used to take showers together, because his parents freaked about the water bill a while back."

"But you feel sorry for him? That's why you let him beat you?"

"You feel sorry for me."

"You don't hit me."

"And I never will. But when we feel sorry for people, we let them get away with things. Like, for me and you, you let me live off your money as long as I help out. It's not so different with Seifer and I. I let him push me around as long as he doesn't touch Roxas."

"But he _did_ touch Roxas. And he still beat you up. A good guy doesn't do that."

"I never said he was a good guy, but he _is_ human and he _does_ have feelings, contrary to popular belief."

"Fine, just tell me if anything happens. Maybe we can prevent some of it."

"Fine. Let's just go home, I have a lot of work to do."

Even though we're holding hands most of the way back, it's not exactly warm and fuzzy.

* * *

When we do get home, I'm in the living room and you're in the bedroom. At the desk, on the couch. I'm on my stomach, facing away from you and the desk chair faces away from me, too. It's not really a sad atmosphere, because we did have a moment of cuddling when we got back. There doesn't seem to be a atmosphere of any kind, really. Like it's nonexistent. In fact, I'm not even sure _I_ exist. But I know you must, because while I'm brainstorming ideas for my final, all I can think of is you. You in that purple dress. With cream-white gloves, black heels, and subtle cosmetics. But not as a woman. As a man, in a dress. Not as a transgender. Just a man. In a dress. Not even a drag-queen. A man. In. A. Dress. In _that_ dress. That wonderful, shimmery dress that hugs your figure just right so no one really knows you're a man unless they really look, or you tell them. Without the wig, because that's not really you. And then my mind wanders farther, into dirtier depths; _none_ of those things are really you, why don't you just go nude?

_I'm a pervert, aren't I?_ I think, resting my head on the arm of the couch.

I feel pressure at my back and hands under my shirt. "I certainly hope so."

"Did I really say that out loud?"

"You did," you confirm, apologetically, but not really apologetic at all.

I roll over, you lifting to your knees for the accommodation. "Where did you get that dress, anyway? I can't get my mind out of the gutter because of you. And that dress."

"My locker. We've been practicing pieces in costume, and I thought you might enjoy it. But, you know how they say to 'fight fire with fire?' Personally, I think water is a better solution, but I think we can fight your gutter problem with that philosophy."

That's when I look away from your face, and see what you're wearing: a dress. _That_ dress. Shimmering. Ruffled. Lacy, upon closer inspection. "I've been wondering: what do you _wear_ under that?"

"Why don't you find out?"

"I do like you, a lot. Maybe sometime soon, I'll even be able to say I love you confidently. But I'm not exactly comfortable with my sexuality right now. I used to thing I was 'nosexual.' You know, since I can't produce exact copies of myself, I can't really be classified as asexual. In fact, I'm not even sure I'm gay. Like I'm...'Cloud-sexual,' or something," we laugh. "I'm just not ready, Cloud."

"I can respect that. But, I'll be here when you are," you whisper, playing with some hair framing my face.

I pull you into me, nuzzling your neck. "I don't know how such a sweet person can exist after a life like yours. How can you still trust people? The whole town is against you."

"Not the _whole_ town. And I suppose I can still trust people because I believe there are still people _to_ be trusted. Actually, I was starting to lose that belief, myself, until you saved me. As long as there's at least one good person in this world, this world is a good place," you whisper with a kiss at my temple. "_You _make this world a good place, Leon."

I clear my throat. "What time is it?"

"You're funny, Leon. It's four-ish"

"As in: pre-four, or post-four?"

"Post-four."

"I'm taking a shower."

"Didn't you take a shower this morning?"

I freeze. "How do you know that?"

"The lavender scent was really strong when you woke me up," you explain, nonchalantly. "I think it's cool how we smell like each other, now that we're together, it's like we own each other, or something" you say brightly.

_What did I say: fucking mind terrorist..._ "Well, I didn't catch a shower after weights." Because _I wasn't sure if you were going to shower, and what if we started talking in the shower and everyone looked at us funny?_ was what I was thinking at the time. Also, I touched myself to your image this morning and couldn't face you in the shower. Of course, since everyone's going to find out about us, now, we can join hands and play Ring Around the Fricken Rosie, if you want. That actually sounds surprisingly bad, since that's our weights teacher's name...

When I come into the bedroom, you're wearing very little (as in: nothing but those Batman Beyond boxers that make you look adorable), as if begging for me to touch you without actually begging. It's the first time I notice you actually _shave your legs and underarms_. You most _certainly_ don't kid around about cross-dressing. "Couldn't you have just worn tights?"

"And what -pray tell- would you suggest I do about my armpits? Things need to match, you know."

"Then, your..." I trail off

"_No_! They don't see it, they don't need to know what I do with it."

"Good to know... I don't know why I asked that..."

"Because you're curious. Everyone wonders what their boyfriend does with their body until they see it... Which, by the way, you denied yourself the opportunity of witnessing tonight," you say, playfully.

"It was about you, too, you know. So you don't think you need to do that for me to like you."

"So, you did want to?"

"Of course I did. But, I'm also a little insecure, as I mentioned earlier. 'Cloud-sexual,' and all."

And it's a nice night, despite today's previous events. We talk for hours, just holding each other. About everything, nothing, and expectations. I sleep better than I have in a long time.

* * *

Author's note: Aww, Sis, (is it alright for me to call you that?) you're so sweet! I'm glad you enjoyed Cloud's cross-dressing shenanigans from the last chapter xD As usual, hope everyone enjoyed~~~


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

"Leon! Leon, wake up, it's Christmas!"

I moan. Well, all good things must come to an end. I open one glaring eye to look at you. "Cloud, it's the middle of Fall. It's not Christmas."

"Well, I have good news and bad news."

I sigh. _It's too early for this..._ "What is it?"

"Well, the bad news is: it's not Christmas."

"You don't say?"

"But the good news is, we have a snow day and cookies!"

"How do you know we have a snow day, already?"

"It's seven thirty, I knew we had a delay at six. Phone alerts, anyone?"

"My hero," I yawn. "Wait a minute...did you say we had cookies?"

"I most certainly did," you smile, matter-of-fact-ly.

"Are you joking about that, too?"

"Come see for yourself!" you laugh, pulling me out of bed with both hands.

I look at the two-seating table, then to Cloud, then back. "Where the hell did you get the stuff to make cookies?"

"Aerith. She said it was probably going to snow hard, soon, so she gave me cookie mix."

"Aerith."

"Yup."

"The school counselor."

"The very same."

"She just _gives_ you random stuff?"

"Well, it's not exactly _random_, per se..."

"Oh?"

"She knows about how you took Home Ec. the entire time in middle school and ninth grade, so you could bring Sora cookies and stuff. She thought you might like it. I mean, who doesn't like cookies, anyway?"

"How does she know that?"

"Aerith Gainsborough, Aeris Gainsborough. Miss Gainsborough...Home Ec. teacher, school counselor...You can put the pieces together."

"Oh. I guess I never really thought about it."

"Now, grab one, before they get cold."

"Why is it I have I never seen Bavarian chocolate mint flavored cookie mix anywhere, yet suddenly you have the ability to make my favorite type of cookie seemingly flawlessly?" I ask a moment after an amazing bite of your sugary delight.

"So, you like it is what I'm hearing, is that about right?"

"Understatement," I say, moving over to kiss you. I shove a piece of the cookie into your mouth after manipulating it open with my tongue.

You smile. "I think we're off to a good snow day," you say, after swallowing the dark treat.

"The best," I answer.

* * *

It's an half-naked, under the blanket, cookie-eating, on the couch, Halloween-special kind of day, and I like days like that. I really do, because there hasn't been a day like that since Sora and I were very young, so I regret having to say the six most dreaded words when four o' clock rolls in.

"I have to get ready for work."

"Oh, sorry, am I keeping you?"

"No, you're fine. _Very_ fine, if I do say so, myself. But, I skipped out yesterday, so I have to get in today, since I only get two paid personal days a month and Cid needs all the help he can get."

"I could go with you, if he really needs help, maybe he'll hire me."

"That's _brilliant_. I never would have considered it. In that case, get dressed, I'm taking you to work."

* * *

"That yer fella-friend, Leon?"

"I guess news travels fast. I hope that's not a problem with you..."

"With me? Naw, little buddy. Maybe one day, I'll tell you about my sharp-shootin' vampyre friend, Vincent. But, today ya have to work on those designs you started last week, 'cause they're due at the end of the month."

"On it," I said, leaving for my own floor. As it is, the designs are almost finished and I'll be starting on something else, soon. Probably something boring that requires human interaction.

_Cloud's Point of View_ (Sorry, don't know how else to go about this scene '^' `^` '^')

"So, Claude, is it?"

"Cloud, actually," I correct shyly.

"Cloud, huh? 'Pologies, stuff gets messed up after a few rounds o' telephone... Neat name, though, don't meet many people with names like that. Native based?"

"How'd you know? I've got maybe ten percent, but, yeah, the tradition carried to me."

"I know their genes don't carry too well after a few generations of mixin', but the cheek-bones are high enough on you. Sure did mix nicely, if you'll accept a compliment_."_

"Thank you, sir."

"There'll be no sir-in' 'round this place. We all have names, we all use 'em. I'm Cid," he says, holding out a hand.

"Cid, then," I say, accepting the hand.

"Leon sent a message before he stopped in, said you might want a job. I'll tell you right now, with all the truth I can muster: Highwind needs a helping hand, we're spread real thin. But we can't afford to give you as high a paying job as Leon, right now," he declares.

"I'll take anything."

"Persistence is good. I'll tell yah the deal, then: some of the lower-income employees get stuck with cleaning the floor they work on, and that sometimes pushes their work back and they can't always meet deadlines. Which is tah say: if we had someone to attend to the custodial needs of all the floors, the other employees could finish projects better. That said, I don't want you doin' that all the time, no one deserves to be a janitor full-time. I think we can work something out: two, maybe three days a week, the rest of the time on customer service, publicity, morale, or somethin'. Whaduhya say, Cloud?"

"That's fine with me," I agree.

"Great, we'll negotiate pay on Thursday! I'll be honest, you won't start out a whole lot more than 8.50 an hour, but if you do a good job, I'll try to get it up. There're broom cupboards on each floor, they've got pictures of those Windex lookin' spray bottles on 'em, right next to the stairs. You should start with the lobby, but after that, it's however you wanna do it; top to bottom, evens to odds, I really don't care. Don't sweat about finishing all the floors today, it's a pretty big place. Four thirty to eight thirty, Monday to Friday, all Holidays you celebrate off -'cept for Hinduism, of course, as they've got one every day, so, all within reason. Have any questions, Leon's on the fourth floor in the D-8 cubical. They're in order, yah can't miss it."

* * *

Author's Note: Yay, Cloud got a job! The first step to Suck-I mean Adulthood!

Were you wondering how I got the idea for Leon's wake up that morning? To me it's not very funny...because that's how James wakes me up. _Every. Fricken. Morning._ But I thought it would be cute for them, as long as it only happened once and maybe _on_ Christmas. (Leon's response? Me, every morning.) Unfortunately, the only time he makes cookies for me are on Holidays...T~T Leon, you lucky bastard...

Sorry for the perspective change, but I don't see how Leon could _possibly_ know what Cloud and Cid are talking about while he's on an entirely different floor. As you probably guessed, he's the FFVII Cid, who is a big softie in my story (Well, there is that _one_ scene, later...), despite his potty mouth in the game. That is sometimes carries into this fic.

I really feel like Cloud and Leon's relationship should have been explored more in KH... With hands..._their _ hands, specifically xD

Once again, a special hand goes out to (JollyBig)Sis! Everyone who braved the story thus far, please give a round of applause! Also, if you're in the future reading this, thank you for supporting the story after it's finished (though I'm sure there's not a whole lot of you). Hope you enjoyed~~~


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

_Back to Leon_ (This _is_ still his story)

Walking into the lobby where we're to meet, I have a fist by my mouth in an unsuccessful attempt at stifling a yawn. If I didn't have overtime on a week-day, I was instantly hit with sleepiness at precisely eight thirty. Until it was time to sleep, then I stopped being tired for some reason. You look just as worn out, but for better described reasons. "How was work, tough guy."

"Dirty," you respond, dryly. "So dirty, that I'll be cleaning the _cleaning_ closets when I finish the main floors."

"Just be glad we don't have bathrooms."

"I was wondering if I missed something, but apparently not."

"Nah, the only bathroom we have is the one in Cid's office, because the vandalism was getting so bad that we couldn't let the public use it. So, now, if you ever really need it, you have to ask the manager."

"Why would people vandalize Highwind?"

"No one told you? Well, I guess I wouldn't know unless I worked here, either; we were pretty young. Actually, I may not have even moved here, yet. A few years after Highwind was established, Shin-Ra offered to fund us. There was a big hassle over it, you know from Shin-Ra's polluting, and everything. Cid finally accepted the sponsorship a couple months into it, but a bunch of the company's suppliers and partnerships fell through or boycotted and we lost a bunch of stock. So, Cid decided to cut Shin-Ra off, and keep the company small. He even got most everything back within a year, but the townspeople still don't like Highwind because we occasionally do an under-the-table job for Shin-Ra, so we mostly keep people out. But sometimes other companies' representatives visit, so we always have the lobby pristine."

"I that makes sense."

"Well, now you know, the town doesn't like us, either. You're the perfect choice of employee," I tease.

"Gee, thanks; I'm so flattered," you respond, with a roll of the eyes.

* * *

We have school the next day, Thursday, as the snow let up just enough for driving conditions to be declared safe.

"Remember, anything happens -_anything_- you call me. Even if it's after the fact. I want to be there for you."

You make a noise of acknowledgement, something between snort and a scoff, sounding close to a short wildcat-like growl, that I don't know how you pull off without choking, yet still look and sound attractive doing. "The joys of an over-protective boyfriend."

"You _did_ agree to this relationship. In fact you intentionally provoked it, you little mind terrorist."

"I prefer the term 'love terrorist.' It doesn't sound quite as dangerous."

"No, it just sounds more like you're going to screw with my heart in stead of my head."

"Works for me, I'd screw any part of you."

"I'm sure you would. And I would reciprocate. But, we're waiting."

"_Why? Why must you deny me such a beautiful piece of art from the gods' very collection? The woe, the woe!_" you dramatize with just the amount of melodramatic theatrics I'd expect of an adv. theater kid.

"It's only for a while. Besides, we have a long time, if we're going by my estimate."

"Oh? How long is your estimation?"

I smirk at you. "'Until death do us part' would be nice."

"I wouldn't commit that much to anyone but you, Leon."

Walking through the halls with my hand in yours is a little unusual, and makes me feel like I have an irregular heartbeat, not only from the fact that I'm making my feeling public, but because by making those feelings public, we're attracting a great many glares. But I notice one person with a black eye who, after initially catching sight of us, doesn't acknowledge us at all. Then I notice something a bit more obnoxious: Quinn the Quarterback standing right in frond of us. "What the hell are you doing with that garbage, Leonhart?"

I pull you closer by the waist, a stone cold look directed at my ex-teammate. "What garbage? He's my boyfriend. The only garbage I see in any direction is you."

"You little faggot!"

He rushes us, but I move us so gracefully away, almost as if I just danced you and I out of his path, him ending up on the floor, and us in a compromising-looking position that's probably in a gay porn mag somewhere in the world (probably in a more sideways, nude kind of manner), one of my hands noticeably lower than the small of your back, the other at the back of your neck, and both of yours gripping the fabric of my shirt, looking for some semblance of steadiness after practically being twirled around. "Quinn? Totally un-schway."

We continue on our gay way the rest of the day (no, I'm not Irish, at all, if that's what came to mind), for the most part without incident. Not even from Seifer. Or anyone else, apart from a few odd looks.

We're paired in weights again, with a medicine ball. Rosie says we have to get back to weigh lifting on Monday, which I have no problem with. At this point, I'm not exactly dreading squat-lift spotting with me behind you, moving in sync.

As usual, Health is a breeze.

As customary, my free periods are spent thinking of you in that dress, after my work is finished (with some occasions of while I _was_ doing my work...), which I'm not really minding anymore. It's not exactly a secret, you know, after donning it in front of your entire AD class while they record you. But I'm sure you considered all possible repercussions of that particular action, and don't mind.

I've gotten so comfortable with the idea of you in that dress that I start drawing you in other dresses, just as modest, sometimes more-so. That's what I draw publicly, anyway, since anyone could be looking over my shoulder.

Lunch is the highlight of my day, spent in Raasch's classroom, pinning you against every dry surface in the class I can think of and the kinky way you had me on the floor, holding my arms above my head just before the bell rings. "We'll pick up on this later," you promise with a wink, pulling me up and exiting the classroom. And I should feel bad about the way that we just spent the last forty-five minutes defiling my favorite teacher's classroom, but my heart is no where near caring at all, because of the way you just set my blood on fire in the best possible way.

Then I'm waiting for two more hours for the last class of the day...

And finally, I'm in his classroom for an actual _class_ since Friday. Had it really been six days? I need some serious Raasch-habilitation. Even though I'm not specifically trying to draw you during class, it seems like you appear subliminally in every last one. In a ball room, the dress. My usual lion warm-up with gravity-defying hair. Random person, your glowing blue-green eyes. The list goes on, but it's unnecessary to continue.

The bell rings, but I continue to draw for a while.

"Mr. Raasch, can I borrow some things for my project?"

"Of course, you're always welcome to borrow supplies. Just remember to bring them back cleaner than you borrowed them...unless it's a canvas, then I want to see it in the most colorful, creative mess you can _possibly_ render it," he says with something close to flamboyance without ever reaching it. "Have you thought about your theme at all?"

"Inconclusively. But I know I'm using a canvas."

He sighs. "It's a start. I know you'll turn out something wonderful, you always do, especially when you get stuck on something. I believe in you, and it's nice to see you discovering yourself like you have been. I'm happy for you, and I hope you two make it through all the shit this school's getting ready to throw at you, because, while I haven't seen you two around each other, I can tell your personalities would click just right."

That's why he's my favorite teacher. It also helps that his voice is like a late twenty-aged Death the Kid from that Soul Eater anime Sora watches.

"Thanks, Erik."

"Always, kiddo."

I grab two larger canvases, and I'm off to meet you at the door. You have no new bruises (visible or covered, I find later), and you look like the happiest kid in the world when my arm wraps around you from behind. "Someone's excited," I comment.

"No one so much as _hinted_ bad things about me, today!"

"Really?" I say, not at all surprised.

"It's because you stood up for me this morning, in front of everyone."

"I did say you would be taken care of, didn't I?"

You nod in reply.

* * *

It's good to be home, even when you're busy with homework. I'm in a particularly good mood, because tomorrow is Friday, pretty much the queen of the week. Right up there next to Saturday.

We fall asleep on the couch, tonight, 'picking up where we left off,' with a Halloween special playing quietly in the background, while a find that I rather enjoy your sudden dominance, maybe even more-so than your submissive side. I don't even care that we made out through part of the Scooby-Doo special and almost the entirety of the Charlie Brown one (in fact, I don't even think about the dress), because my mind is _so _focused on your mouth, your teeth grazing my neck and chest in a few places I'd never even thought about people _touching,_ your wicked mouth traveling back to mine mouth every once in a while to keep me more engaged than gripping your hair or digging nails into your skin, crescent moon shapes all over your back remaining in the morning, like evidence of the event.

* * *

When I get up in the morning, it's to you looking rather smug with the aroma of coffee in the air. I vaguely wonder how you even fixed that, but your smirk is so big and evil-looking (in a light, nonthreatening version of Yandere kind of way), that I forget about the coffee-machine completely.

"I was in _someone's_ dreams last night," you explain the a sing-song manner of a grade-schooler singing 'Kissing in a Tree.' With just a dash more evil. If you had a tail right now, I know it would be flicking from side to side in that way that cats do when they're deciding how the want to 'play' with the new kitten. And, by 'play,' I mean: evilly attack for no other reason than fully grown cats are generally dicks.

In a flash, I recall exactly what kind of dream my subconscious fabricated for my viewing pleasure -and torture- last night. "Really? I don't remember," I lie. Only my face feels so hot I'm sure you see through it, as it's practically impossible not to, with a blush so dark.

"Oh, really?" you question, obviously not believing at all. "That's too bad; it sounded like a good dream. I was hoping you would share," you smile deviously.

The morning is a brilliant one, school flies by easily, and we're not in Hot Topic for an overly long amount of time, leaving with a lion-themed earing for your left ear and matching tee-shirts with that paint spatter styled background an a dash of glitter, demanding: 'DON'T HATE US 'CAUSE WE'RE BEAUTIFUL,' in hot-pink comic-sans. (They _did_ come from the male selection, if anyone wonders.) The cashier smiles at us, proclaiming we are 'cute,' to which I blush a bit, and you smile a quick 'Thank you.'

Saturday is lazier than that snow-day, but, sadly, without cookies.

* * *

We don't hear from Seifer. For a long time, we don't hear from anyone except one another, which neither of us seem too torn up about. I don't think we even notice, we're so caught up in this private world we seem to have created for ourselves.

Nothing really happens at all until the twentieth.

* * *

Author's Note: Ooh, ominous cliff-hanger so close to Halloween! The shirt idea came from James' and my own closet (no one remembers where it came from, or how it got there, it's just sort of _been_ there for ever). Anyone catch the Batman Beyond lingo in the beginning? Probably before your time.  
Ace Kitty Wayne (my cat): You're so old, Vergil.  
Don't remind me T~T (isn't even drinking age, yet)

Anyway, the usual shout out of honor goes to Sis, for reviewing so consistently since she found this story, though, she got busy or went to bed or something a few hours ago. Hope this chapter put a smile on your face.

And all of your faces, too, anyone else who might be reading~~~!


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

The only people besides each other we've really talked to in nearly a week are Raasch and Aerith, because either the rest of the school really is over us or they're trying to hatch some scheme about eliminating us with the perfect murder. It's Thursday the twentieth and we're having our usual lunch-time ritual, today's session with you on the counter in the back of the room, legs wrapped tightly around my waist, so tight in fact, my movement is constricted as we delve into one another's mouths and clothes. I'm not even sure I'll be able to wait one more week without one of us getting dominated completely (not even caring which one of us it is at this point), when a knock at the door startles us apart with not quite enough time for you to relinquish your hold on me, nearly resulting to a rather painful collision between you and the concrete floor, but ending up with both of us in an extremely awkward position rather close to falling over.

Then the door opens, which I'd somehow forgot about in the process of trying to keep you off the floor, the reminder causing both of us crash into it, like fallen Dominos.

"I'm telling you, Yuffie, they're not going to be in...here."

"Of course they're in here, I watched them come in yesterday. They probably didn't answer 'cause they're shy. Huh? What's wrong, Tifa?" She follows her friends gaze.

"Yup, shy, Yuffs. Totally where I'd pin my money," the long haired girl says, looking away with a face of rose.

"Told you they'd be here," the Kisaragi girl says, smugly, not seeming to notice our compromising position.

I only notice my hand at the back of your thigh when I'm helping you up. Probably from when I almost succeeded in keeping you from the ground. We brush ourselves off awkwardly, even though there's almost no dirt or dust on the floor, as Raasch makes a point of sweeping and moping it the last thirty minutes of Friday's seventh period. But they don't know that. And they don't need to.

You clear your throat awkwardly. "Tifa..." you acknowledge.

"Yuffie..." I say at the same time.

"You know them?" we chorus.

"Tifa was my friend a long time ago."  
"Yuffie comes to the games."  
"_What?_"

"Relax, boys," Yuffie cuts in. "We all know each other. Leonhart, Lockhart. Strife, Kisaragi. We cool? Good," she says without awaiting a response. "Now that's out of the way, my _girlfriend_ and I came to invite you two to our Night of the Rainbow Halloween party next Friday."

"Why are you inviting us?"

"Leon, 'Night of the Rainbow?' It's a party _exclusively_ for the gay couples of Prynne High, and you two are pretty much heroes to us."

"Heroes? We're just boys!" you object, speaking my mind perfectly.

Enter Tifa: "Boys who liberated the rest of us by saying there's something wrong with how we're treated, and doing something it. And then when those nasty rumors started up about you two: you just ignored them, like there was nothing wrong until they went away. Because of you two, couples like us can say 'I love you' to each other in public without getting any noticeable backlash over it. We're being recognized as equal to the straight couples. You _are_ heroes, to the minorities of this school at the very least." She closes your hands around a glittery pink invitation. "Just think about it, okay?" she looks at me. "It would mean a lot. To all of us."

The real truth about the rumors is: we never heard them. We didn't listen to them. We didn't know there were any rumors, because we don't connect to the world of high-school. The rest of the world doesn't exist to us, right now.

And suddenly we're alone at lunch time and touching you isn't even on the top ten list of things on my mind.

We share a look over the glittering pamphlet.

Some heroes.

* * *

"So, what does it say?" I ask, sipping vanilla almond milk.

"'Couple: Squall U. Leonhart and Cloud F. Strife-' only Strife is crossed out and it says 'Undefined' above it '-This is your official welcoming to the Children of the Rainbow. It is your ticket to all CotR events occurring within the next month, which are listed in order on the back. On the first of every month, you will be contacted and given a new one. It is important not to lose this form, as replacements are not made and you will only be given **one** each month unless you have separated from your previous mate, then will be given a temporary slip with an expiration of the next month's first and only well distinguished couples such as the leaders, DJs, and well-known regulars will be allowed into events without a pass. Subscribing to the high lighted email at the bottom of this form will stream information about upcoming events and their requirements.'"

"I guess we could at least see what the events are like."

"Already done," you say, opening a tab on your phone. "The next available event is next Friday, October 28th, just like they said.  
'House opens doors on the 28th at 11 A.M., close on the 30th at 12 P.M.  
Costumes are optional, but highly encouraged.  
Living room one hosts drinking games, Two: Kissing games and romantics, Three: fair game for anything within reason and non-violent.  
Both kitchens are off limits to everyone but the designated staff: Luxord Dulor, Dilan Xaldin, and Even Vexen. If you don't have a name-tag with those names, you'll be redirected and unwelcomed to the escapades of the next three months  
All bedrooms are available for personal use, but hang something on the door if it doesn't have a lock, so everyone knows.  
The three separate bathrooms are not to be blocked off, and are for standard bodily needs, only- _nothing else_.  
Twenty-one and older encouraged to partake in at least one round of a drinking game unless attending groups or therapy for alcoholism or if it is against personal or religious beliefs.  
Twenty and younger will remain overnight, if any alcohol is detected by breathalyzer, IDs are checked at all exits and keys with be confiscated if the breathalyzer test shows _any_ trace of alcohol.  
DJs for the venue: first quarter- DJ Midnight (Myde Demyx) second quarter- DJ Twilight (Axel Lea) and the last half spit between the bands: Kingdom's Broken Hearts, The Nobodies, and The Electro-Poison Fag-hags. Any questions should be directed to _this FAQ_ where the Children's leaders will do their best to answer.' Did you get all that?"

"They party hard."

"But somewhat responsibly. I kind of want to go, since we haven't made any plans for Halloween..." you say, mildly embarrassed.

"Sure, then, let's go. It could be fun."

"Somehow, I didn't think you would get on board so easily. It makes me think you're up to something."

I lay halfway on your lap, with a sigh. "It's not exactly that I'm up to something. Just that... Well, remember when they were talking about looking up to us? Calling us heroes? Neither one of us want that. I just want to show them that we're like them, that we're not heroes. The best people to look up to a the fictional ones, because they have the best skills at handling themselves," I say, coaxing your lips to mine. "Not hormonal teenage boys who think about jumping each other in art rooms and any other place they deem private enough all day," I finish after finally pulling away.

* * *

Author's Note: So, the foreshadowing from the last chapter wasn't really pointing to anything bad, it just sounded like it. Had you going, eh? If anything, it was pointing towards their world opening up to other people.

Sis, there's a new follower! Two of them, since last night, and one of them added both the story and my profile to their favorites. You're not alone anymore! Neo, Lord, I'd love to give shout outs to your profiles. Thank you, everyone supporting this fic, now or whenever you get to it. It makes me feel as warm and fuzzy, even more than reading someone else's Cleon fic (:

Bless your face, if you sneezed while reading this chapter, bless you. I am not Toby 'Tobuscus' Tuner, but I totally encourage you to check him out on Youtube if you don't know about his channel, which is highly unlikely, but it does happen. Peace off! (Would never be able to pull that off in real life)


	11. Chapter 11

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

Author's Note: I just thought I'd put the note in the beginning, so I can point out that Leon _was_ calling them hormonal teens in the last chapter, pointing out how they shouldn't be looked up to, because it does sound easily misunderstood. That last phrase is an extension of what he was saying about how people who don't exist are better role-models than they are. So...I guess that means he was admitting to wanting to jump Cloud? xD

* * *

"What should we wear for the party?"

"I don't know about myself, but I know you wearing a dress would be a good idea."

"Yeah, but what theme?"

"Hmm... I'm thinking something with unnecessarily dramatic frills. I think it would make you look cute."

We haven't been at the mall very long, but long enough to know that the bottom of the left wing doesn't have what we're looking for...whatever that is, exactly... I don't feel very confidant about the second tier, either, though. We stop inside Hot Topic -I mean, how the Hell do you go to a mall and _not_?- and don't expect to find anything you could use for the party. But you have a bag when you tug at my hand. "I have an idea."

"What did you find?"

"By itself, nothing. But, with that sewing machine Aerith let me borrow, some spare fabric, the right base, and a bit of lace, the perfect costume."

"So, what exactly are we doing in _here_?"

"Getting the base of _your_ costume," you say like it's nothing big.

"Oh, no, I am _not_ going to that party in-"

"Relax. It's not like I'm going to shove you in a tutu and frills."

"What, then?"

"Spandex," you smirk.

"I'm not much less concerned than I was a moment ago."

"Would you like us to have matching dresses, in that case?"

"I'm going to shut up now..."

"It's not as bad as it sounds."

* * *

Really, it wouldn't be as bad as it sounded. It's not uncomfortable. It's not very provocative, with the sash at the so thick. It would be fine. If we weren't dressed as Fakir and Princess Tutu, with everyone staring. I don't know who Fakir is. Or Princess Tutu, for that matter. Eventually, I come to realize that they're staring at us because of me in tight spandex or because of you in a heavily ruffled dress. If it were about odd costumes, they would be staring at 'Whipmaster' over there. But I still don't want this publicized.

People usually are staring at us. On campus, in the mall, during weights class. But not at such close range, not point-black, like right now.

The doors opened hours ago, but we come at six, when the music is supposed to start.

The microphone adjusts to something from the small platform. "You guys hear me alright?"

Shouts of approval are spewed from every direction.

"Let's get the rules out of the way, then. I hear there are a few new members in, tonight. Welcome, welcome. I'm Midnight, as most of you know."

"_Midnight_!"

"The first commitment?"

"_Non_-_violence_!"

"The second?"

"_Party_!"

"All of you should know the third!"

"_There are no rules_!"

"Good job! If you have any qualms-"

"Get the fuck out now!" three voices demand to the microphone. Three very familiar voices.

"Couldn't have said it better, boys. I'm you're DJ for the next four hours, but, first, I've got a special treat. Lionhart and Strife are back in!"

"What does he mean? This is our first time here," you call over the crowd.

I look closely at the forms just out of the reach of light. Two spikey heads. "He's not talking about us. Take a closer look."

"Make some noise for the fabulous Killjoys! Killjoys? Make some noise!" he calls, stepping out of sight, our brothers stepping out to the light with an obnoxious set of catchy 'na-na-na's, Roxas with a bass and Sora with a guitar. Roxas halts his voice, Sora stopping after finishing the set of na's. The verse is alternated between the two brothers.

Most of the crowd from before thins into the rest of the house, but we're shocked into our places, transfixed by little brothers.

They end the song on a softer note of 'explode.'

"This next song is all about feeling good." They just jump into it, eventually having us understand the line of our matching HT tees, while having the crowd shout 'I'm gay,' at many intervals.

Setting their instruments in their stands, they return to Roxas' mic. "We'd love to play a full set, but it's a holiday, and I like these guys too much to miss out."

"He means 'love,'" Sora stage-whispers, with a giggle.

The third familiar voice's owner appears with an arm around each boy. "We hope you all enjoy the rest of the night, but we're booking it out," Riku says, leading the two off the platform and disappearing into the remainder of the crowd.

You turn to me. "Should we..." You trail off.

"No, no, we shouldn't. Not tonight. We'll talk to them tomorrow."

"Right," you agree.

We sort of wonder around the 'Fair Game' living room. We're looking for Tifa and Yuffie, but it sounds like they're in the drinking games and we seem to have some sort of silent agreement not to go there. Over the chatter of the crowd -that doesn't seem quite as shell-shocked by us this anymore- and even Midnight's DJ platform in the gala room, we can hear someone yelling at Rude and Reno about their keys.

"Parties aren't as fun when you don't know anyone," you muse with a sigh.

"Were you expecting to know anyone?"

"Not really. But everyone thinks we're too cool to approach, or something.

"Why don't you just talk to them? We're supposed to make them feel unimpressed, anyway."

And it doesn't end very well, usually with a lot of giggling on their parts and a 'Not interested,' from you. Only, just now was more like: 'Not interested!'

"Why can't we be normal?" you whine.

"You guys look fine to me," a black masked red-head says, sitting by me. "Drink?"

"We can't," I answer.

"It's blue cream soda," the stranger says with a wink, pointing at the bottle.

"Well, thanks..."

"I know it's hard to be admired here at first, but they get over it. Soon you'll feel normal again," he assures.

"Who are you?"

"DJ Twilight. But you can call me Axel. Got it memorized?"

"Axel, as in Axel Lea? But I thought you were straight?"

"Pan, actually. You know, able to love any gender. Having a girlfriend doesn't entail being straight. Nice cosplay, by the way. I tried out the phantom from Blood+, but no one seems to get it; they just think I'm a vampire."

And really, it's nice being able to talk to someone. I've never really liked people, never really wanted to interact with them, but Axel just _gets_ it. He really understands being singled out at school, then overly-praised here. But I'm not sad when he leaves, even if I feel we won't see him for a while, because I know that there's always someone out there to relate with.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

An hour later finds us on the couch with hot cider wearing little but blankets, the wind howling outside. It's very quiet, just you on my lap in lazy positions, until- "Have you have you figured it out, yet?"

"Figured what out?"

"You know, are you still just 'Cloud-sexual,' or are you gay?"

"...I have to admit it sometime. So, yeah. I'm gay."

"...Then, will you...you know..."

"Cloud..."

"It doesn't have to be all the way, or anything...it's just... I've been dying for you to touch me, especially now that all my bruises are healed. It makes me feel unwanted when you don't, I guess..."

After two weeks of a sudden hormonal spike, it's very hard to deny you. So hard, in fact, that I can't. There's hesitance. There's plenty of hesitance. Then a confirmation that leads to caressing, sweating, moaning, panting, and all things good that promise to release. There is only you, me, the couch, the floor, and Sirius XM playing Safetysuit's 'Find a way' playing rather fittingly in the background, apple cider growing cold and forgotten.

Sometime after what felt like hours, there's an 'I love you,' that slips out of my mouth, floating into your ears, to which you just about choke back, voice cracking in the most perfect way on 'too.'

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, my Doc manager was acting funny last night.

Lord: Yeah, I know the Yuffie and Tifa pairing does seem kind of out of no where, so I'm glad you don't mind. Originally, I was going to have Aerith be younger in this story and paired with Tifa, but I needed a tender, understanding character like Arrith for the counselor, because her personality is vital in later chapters (very later chapters). As for putting Yuffie with her, well I considered Kairi at first, because I feel like they would get along just fine, but traded that idea for a sense of familiarity from FFVII, because Tifa and Yuffie get along pretty well there (probably because Yuffie's not after Cloud xD) though they don't interact a lot in KH. Long explanation is long.

Sis: I'm glad you like the Children of the Rainbow, and are impressed with their thought processes that go into their work. In this story, Yuffie's parents are rich and never home, which you find out later in the story, which supplies CotR with a perfect event for events, but becomes a sort of mini agitation in a few more chapters.

Kudos to my lovely reviewers, favoriters, and followers, you keep this story going!

Proper credit to the real Fabulous Killjoys: My Chemical Romance! (if you want to know what the mentioned song is: Na Na Na) And of course the second one is Bowling for Soup's 'I'm gay!' Also, Safetysuit with 'Find a Way,' which is my current favorite song. I encourage you to check them out.

Oh my gods, Cloud and Leon said they loved each other!

Hope you all enjoyed~~~


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

This was all the calm before the storm. I'd been a bit suspicious about the school's reprieve of scrutiny towards us. When I was starting to accept that maybe, just _maybe_, it was going to simmer down to what it had been the last week -hostile staring- was when I thought I might have been being paranoid. But paranoia isn't paranoid if there really is danger. So when I finally let my guard down, I realize the very same day that's a mistake.

I've finally remembered to bring the football gear back to Coach Cochran's office, feeling amazing from Friday. Amazingly unwary, that is. I don't find it odd in the least that no one's the sports office hallway, no groups of teens hanging posters or trying to get tips from their coaches. No one. Just me. Walking an empty hallway. With my hands full. Quiet is a good thing, you can't usually find it. Unless you're in a school, then quiet is a highly suspicious thing that should be avoided at any cost.

So, why didn't I?

Why didn't I think that Quinn might try to get me back for making a fool of him? That Rai might try to get me back for hurting Seifer? Why wasn't I prepared? Why wasn't I _thinking_?

No, when they shut and lock Cochran's door behind me, I don't even take them seriously. Like it's some kind of game. Like it's some little problem they have with me and not a clusterfuck of anger and homophobia. I don't even get in a defensive stance. I just say: "What do you want?" As if we're on civil terms.

"I want a lot of things," Quinn answers. "I want a scholarship, I want to go to Harvard, I want a good cornerback, I want my bitch to put out more. But I'm here because I want you to hurt."

"That's cute." That's _cute_? That's a threat, that's _not_ cute. "If you don't mind, I'm leaving, now."

Only, the moment I'm close enough to Rai, I'm facedown on the floor. My blood only runs cold when I feel leather sliding down my hips. "Did you really think you'd get away with all you've done to us?"

And I know his grudge is more because I dishonored the old pact than anything.

* * *

_Erik, please come get me.  
I'm in room 208  
-Lionhearted_

I'm trembling and my face is wet from silent tears. It hurts to move. It hurts to exist. I don't want to see Cloud, don't want to face him. I don't want him to know.

_What's wrong?_

_Just come here.  
-Lionhearted_

_Please  
-Lionhearted_

It's only a few minutes for Raasch to excuse his class, put up a note, and get here, but it feels like it's been hours. I'm still curled up when his brown-grey streaked hair comes into sight. Green eyes access the situation. The bruising at my throat, the way my eyes can't quite meet his, the trembling. The tearstained face -how can you miss that?

"I'm calling an ambul-"

"No!" I choke out the word in panic. "No...please don't... I don't want everyone to know..."

"...Can you stand?"

"Yeah," I breathe unsteadily, getting to my feet and walking to him on the legs of an anorexic suffering anemia. It still hurts to move. And it stings deep inside my body.

He places an arm at my shoulders, trying to provide comfort.

After several moments, we're at his door. "Cloud? Could you come with me?" All eyes are on him as he awkwardly packs his project.

* * *

"Do you have permission for us to treat him?"

"He's emancipated, he doesn't need permission."

The woman sighs. "We don't like treating...cases like that. They go on the file, and it gives us a bad name," she whispers. "If you wouldn't mind taking him to the next town..."

The next hospital is much more accepting, and I'm quickly with a doctor and a nurse, holding Cloud's hand from the other side of the curtain. "You're...pretty torn up down there, Squall."

"Because I can't already feel as much," I retort in sarcastic misery.

"Well, we have the sample we need. I probably won't see much of you after this, but you can call the hospital any time and you can ask for Lucretcia here, she works nine to six Sunday through Saturday, and she can set you up with free therapy because of your...circumstances... We're going to get the guy who did this," he says, the cliché I've been expecting to hear since I walked in. It almost makes me want to laugh. But the part of me that would have is dead.

The nurse places a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't touch me," I growl. And she flinches. Actually _flinches_ away from me. Which makes me feel worse for my self than it does for her.

She leaves, I start getting dressed, pulling the curtain for the two on the other side when that's done.

* * *

Even an hour's worth of showering can't make me feel clean, the burning hot water dying my skin red and making my body radiate a heat I can't feel on the inside. I crawl in bed with Cloud -still fully clothed because I can't stand for anyone to see my skin- but I have to move to the couch because I shift around the bed so much I'm afraid I'll wake him. I can't sleep all night, finally giving up any hope of doing so at three. By six, I've drank half a pot of coffee, but still don't feel energized. by seven, I've made a breakfast with no intention of eating, so I wake you up.

School is horrible, and all I can see is Quinn until lunch, which Cloud and I spend in the empty art room, my head in your lap while he stroke my hair soothingly.

I don't sleep for three whole days, and somehow, that throws Cloud's sleep off too.

I'm so out of it at work that Cid gives me the day off. "I dunno what's wrong with you, Leon, but yah need tah snap out of it. I'll let Cloud take over your project for the week, you need to get some rest."

_If only I could..._

* * *

Author's Note: Angst is Angsty... I hated writing this chapter. It's horrible T~T

Leon refers to Cloud as 'him' or by his name in this chapter instead of 'you' to signify the disconnection he feels in this chapter. In a while, he goes back to the old format.

Lord: Yeah, it was weird how the school got over them so quickly, but that's because they didn't. No, this story is a very long one, the problems aren't stopping any time soon. The town still hates Cloud. The only reason they heard so little about it after the initial response is because they were waiting. The friendliness at the mall is just about completely due to the fact that it's located in the next town, Vitum, where Leon got treated this chapter.

Sis: Hope you enjoyed, though I hated this chapter.


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

Quinn is arrested on Friday with little explanation, and if we had any hope of Prynne High finishing the season with a good rating without the first choice cornerback, we have none without the first choice quarterback no matter how much school spirit the cheerleaders can throw at us.

I've been crying a lot. Over just about everything, really, and that's huge because I haven't cried since before the date of my emancipation almost a year ago. Even something as little as today when I think about dropping art because my mind is unable to focus from an artistic vantage point and I don't know what to do for the final makes my eyes water with frustration. The fact that both canvases are still completely blank.

Despite the fact there was no ambulance to tip anyone off, the entire school seems to know what Quinn did to me. Because of this, I skip Health on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. I drop Weights completely on Thursday. I go to Raasch's class on his prep period, and he marks me as present at seventh. I go to Health on Friday, but I haven't missed enough for it to matter. I finish the work of the last three days and ask to be excused. He gives me work for next week and says I only have to come Thursday and Friday because Raasch explained his current situation, bless his soul.

I know Cloud's in Raasch's room at lunch, but I don't go to see him. We haven't talked much the last few days. I know he probably needs comfort, too, because I've seen him between class periods and he's shoved and taunted often in hallways. But I don't come to his rescue. It's not that I don't care, I just don't foresee any good to come from it. If anything, it would make things worse, make a few more enemies we don't need.

I've looked at the therapy card every day from the Event onwards. Just took it out of my wallet and stared at it. Sometimes for a minute, sometimes for an hour. But I'm _not_ going.

It's Saturday the 5th, and I have my first fight with Cloud. It lasts maybe thirty seconds. _Maybe_ thirty seconds. Probably less. It starts off with a comment about therapy on his part. We keenly avoid the underlying reason I may or may not need therapy. The rest of the conversation gone sour goes something like:

"You should consider it, Leon. I'm...I'm kind of worried..."

"There's no need to be worried. I don't need a shrink, Cloud."

"Leon," he starts, holding my hand.

"What?" I say, impatient.

"You're not yourself, lately." I rip my hand away at 'yourself.'

"That's your argument? I'm 'not myself?' You barely know me! It's been -what?- a month? What could you possibly know about me!?" and I feel horrible about myself when he turns around.

"I'd've liked to have thought I knew the important things."

I want to apologize. Really, I want to apologize. But my tongue gets tied on something in my head, and I can't. I go to the door. "I'm going on a walk."

"I love you, Leon," he turns around to proclaim. But I can't turn to look at him, because I know I'll get trapped here and not be able to think.

"I love you, too. I'll probably be home soon, but don't wait up in case. Call or text if you need anything."

"Right."

The walk is long and lugubrious, early November rain turning into heavy hail that forces me into a small shop with thankfully late hours. Cloud text me some time ago, saying he was going to stay with a friend, to give us time to cool off. I wondered who the friend could possibly be, but don't ask. It's not my business.

A familiar set of red spikes looks up from behind a glass showcase. "Leon!"

"Axel?"

"Hey, wouldn't have thought you were the type. What were you looking for?"

"Huh?" looking around, I quickly realize this is a body modification parlor. "Oh, sorry, I was just getting out of the weather. Is it okay for me to wait it out here?"

"That's fine. Great, in fact, Reno already went to bed, and I have to close, so it gets kinda lonely."

We talk for a while, Quinn's arrest the previous day (so mysterious), about my recent fight with Cloud, and about piercings. "I really think you would look good with something other than your ear, you should branch out more. If you got one here, I'd pay for your first, 'cause business is slow.

"Okay, suppose I indulge this idea; what type of piercing would I look good with?"

"Personally, I would recommend a brow pierce, with the style you have going, but if you were going for something more concealable, your only real options are: tongue or navel. Now that I think about it, I navel would be a good pick for you; I mean it's hidden, it's unique for males, and we have some cool new designs for them."

"I have sensitive skin."

"We only work in surgical steel."

Silence ensues the next few moments, because I have no room left to argue.

"Please~ indulge me. I haven't done so much as pierced a little girl's ears today."

"Fine," I agree after a moment. "But you can't tell _anyone_."

"My lips are sealed. That's part of the deal anyway, for some of the more..._intimate _work we do."

"Don't even want to know."

"It's a deal, then," he says, pulling a form from a small black filing cabinet. "I need to see your ID and proof of emancipation, not that it's really necessary at this point." He makes copies of the emancipation card, because that's all the ID he really needs, and has me sign at the bottom of the page and answer some questions about my health.

"Alright," he says, pulling out two felt-lined boxes. "The rings need to be autoclaved, and I don't recommend them because the longer you wait for something, the colder your feet get. We don't need to do anything with the bars, though."

I look for a moment, but nothing seems to stand out. "What do you think would look good?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to do this, in all honesty, but I think Reno and Saix could get over it easy enough," he admits, pulling a black leather-bound box out of a cupboard. He runs a finger over a section of the long black box, finding what he was looking for apparently, setting out several black-white bi-color decorated bars in different styles. "Theses are variscite gems, they're supposed to rejuvenate, strengthen, protect, and ease emotional pain, which I can sense you need need right about now. Of course, if you wanted a different color, then I can think of a couple other stones, but I feel like this would be the most helpful. I'd go with the double prism," he says wisely.

"I like it," and I don't feel as bad about the fact that I'm about to get a piercing, because Axel is trying to help, if not in a rather unusual way. He puts the others away, washes his hands, pulls on gloves -those heavy duty ones like you see in cage fighting- and rubs the silvery bar with a cue-tip soaked in clear liquid and leads me into the next room, pulling the curtain closed behind us.

"Sit, take your top off, get comfy," he orders, setting the metal future pain on a tray and picking out a clamp and a needle I find overly large, sterilizing them as well before setting them beside the thing that's about to be sticking out of me. He was right, the longer you wait, the more a pansy you turn become.

"It doesn't look like this is going to be nearly as painless as the lobe piercing," I note verbally.

"It's not," he says honestly, with a sympathetic smile. "But you'll like it. Okay, this might tickle, I'm just gonna rub some iodine around the area we're making the incision at. The top, right? You don't want something fancy, like two that cross or anything?"

"Yeah, top is great," I say, probably paling at the idea of doing this twice.

And it does kind of tickle, the sensation causing the hair on my arms raise.

He furrows his brows after a moment, making me think there's something wrong. "How much do you weigh?"

I'm a little thrown off. "I don't know, I don't have a scale. Last time I checked I was two weeks ago, I was almost one-sixty, why?"

"You don't look a hundred sixty pounds. You look, like, one-forty, one-thirty-five. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lie, and if it isn't believable, he decides not to pry.

He moves between my legs and I feel pressure at my stomach and for a second I think he's about to shove the needle in, my stomach coiling uncomfortably at the feeling, but the pressure leaves and he hands me a mirror. "That where you want it to go in?"

I look, moving the mirror at all sides. Some how, he got it perfectly symmetrical. "That's fine."

"Fine? Or where you want it to be forever? Because we can't re-pierce the same area twice and get it in straight because of scar tissue."

"It's perfect."

He clamps the area, pulling at it, examining my stomach like a schoolgirl and her favorite crush, only in a much less adorable way. "Stop looking," he says, reaching for the needle.

"I can't help it."

"Close your eyes or something."

I try to, really, I do, but the anticipation is so intense that I open them without thinking, flinching away from the needle too close for comfort. He looks at my face, not amused. "Sorry..."

"This isn't working," he murmurs, lining the needle right up to the miniscule dot. Then he presses his lips to mine, successful in both confusing me and blocking my view. I don't even realize there's something under my skin until he pulls away and starts moving the needle inside of me, and even though he probably distracted me from the greater pain of the initial stab, it fucking hurts. "Sorry about that. Remind me to buy blindfolds for customers like you. _Normally_ people become transfixed with the insides of their eyelids when they know something is about to hurt," he jokes without looking at me.

My mouth is clenched in too much pain to respond. It exits and I gasp, wanting badly to scream, barely resisting the urge. I end up laughing, like that short, breathy laugh you when you're in too much shock to comprehend what's happening, but you feel obligated to have some kind of reaction. He regards me with amusement for the ten seconds it lasts before I come back to Earth in Axel's body mod shop sitting on a black vinyl adjusting chair with the red head between my legs and a needle in the skin above my navel. "Ready?" he asks with an excitement that should probably be considered sadistic, but he wears in such a way you'd think you were going on an adventure. Which, I kind of am; an adventure of body revision.

I can only nod in response, to which he smiles sweetly. Putting the bar in doesn't hurt. It feels _really_ weird, but it doesn't hurt. He finishes fastening it, handing me the mirror again. "I like it," I smile, feeling the double prism dangling down.

"I would hope so, because you can't change it for two weeks." He sets the mirror back on the counter, grabbing a small grey bottle of some chemical from the stand. I eye it wearily. "Save that look for your mother. Oh, sorry, that was insensitive, wasn't it? What I mean is: don't look at me like a drowned your goldfish; it's just hydrogen peroxide, it bubbles out the blood and infection and stuff. We use it on everything, the holes, the rings...the _counters_. Everything." He pours it on and I watch in mild fascination as bubbles come out of the wound, Axel wiping away the iodine. "Don't clean it with iodine after this, I'll give you a sea salt solution for that. Pour some in a shot glass or something and pour it on there about once a week. Washing it with soap it fine, as long as it's unscented. Any questions, this is the shop's number," he said, handing me a black, red, and white business card. He puts a large medical cloth over the body jewelry and taping it on all sides. "We don't usually pick up until ten, but if something's really wrong, you can come to the shop, one of us is always in. I'll drive you home; closing time's close enough that if someone _did_ come in this late, I couldn't help them."

"Thanks, Axel."

When we do pull up to the sidewalk of my apartment, it's bothering me so much that I finally have to say something. "Axel, about the..."

"The kiss? It wasn't romantic or anything, I just needed you to stop flinching from the needle. I won't tell anyone, 'what happens behind the curtain stays behind the curtain,' after all."

"Okay, thanks. For everything."

And, despite everything that's happened this last week, I sleep well for the first time since the 'Event.' Even without Cloud to curl up to.

* * *

I wake up to the sound of running water, waking with a feeling of renewal. I stretch with a yawn, noting the time: twelve. Cloud exits the bathroom, looking tired, himself. "You smell like cigarettes," I comment without thinking about the one person you know that smokes, because it's just too early for a connection.

"I know. How was you- What's wrong with your stomach?!" he asks, startled.

"Huh? Oh," I realize, tearing the bandage away. "Got a piercing from Axel last night. Hey, do I look like I've lost weight? Like, unhealthy, or anything?"

"You look great." And I can tell he's not lying about how he thinks I look in terms of being attractive, but note how he pointedly avoids the unhealthy part.

I go to take a shower, too, and can't help looking in the mirror. And Axel is right; I don't look anywhere _near_ 160, not even ten pounds away from it at my height of five-nine. I know that a mere week without lifting did not do this.

Still, my mind doesn't even stay on that very long, because Cloud's scent triggered a very old thought process.

I wish I didn't wish I still smoke.

* * *

A/N: Well, it's good to see Leon feeling a little better, even if the couple got in a fight during this chapter. It's healthy, it's a bad sign when people don't have an argument every few weeks. Well, I have an appointment today, so I probably can't get the next chapter up until 4:00, or 9 hours (We live pretty far out), but I _will_ get at least one more up before I go to bed to make up for yesterday's serious lack.

Ooh~ Leon was a smoker, what a bad boy xD

Long chapter is long (2,700+ words?!)

Thank you for the support, my lovelies!


	14. Chapter 14

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

School isn't fun when you've quit smoking for two months, a craving is brought on that you carry around for two days and all the while you know exactly where a pack is. Especially when you're heading to the room where they are, trying not to think about them. I try to think about you, instead, because we're on good terms after an apology and some time to cool down. In fact, everything would almost be back to normal, if I didn't feel so completely soiled. I still don't want you to see much of my skin, because some part of me is afraid that my impurities could sully you if we ever get skin to skin for a while.

You're on my lap in our sanctuary, and the air is tense. I can tell there's something on your mind. But I don't ask, because I don't want to be pressed for information, either. And it takes a good fifteen minutes for you to break the silence. "There's something you need to know...about what happened..."

I immediately tense at the feeling that comes with the mentions of the 'Event.' "Shoot," I say, suddenly very clammy.

"Quinn didn't do this because you're gay."

"I figured as much. Why attack like that if it was such an issue with him?" I don't really feel like I'm in the room with you. Like I'm above us, somewhere, watching with little interest, like it doesn't concern me at all.

"There's something you have in common with Seifer. He was on that team, too. Running back, if you remember. Quinn did the same to him after he left the team, which kind of turned him away from any possible exploration of sexuality, in any form. It's not that people haven't been interested in him, it's the exact opposite. He told me something about 'breaking a pact,' but I never really got to know what that meant. This all goes back to why Seifer is...how he is. I'd known him for a very long time. I know that at five, he wanted to be a dancer, at eight, an astronaut, at ten, a teacher, at thirteen a doctor. But do you want to be at fifteen?"

I swallow, hard. "What?"

"Dead. Because he did something that pissed Quinn Boudaikian off. I don't know how many times I walked in on him staring down a loaded gun. Which leads to my relationship with him and the rest of the town. No one really knew what happened to Seifer; I was the only person he ever told. But he started to blame me for what Quinn did. And he began punishing me for it. Eventually, the rest of the town came to the conclusion that I was the reason for his sudden depression and aggressive activity. Even I began to think it was my fault. I feel like it's my fault for what he did to you!" your voice cracks in that pathetic way that if it were anyone else, I might find it annoying, but you manage to pull it off with the indicators that you're just growing into your voice, still.

I turn you to the side, to hold you tighter. "None of this was ever your fault." I assure, a hand buried in blond spikes, kisses being pressed from your temple to your lips, quieting and soothing those breaths people get when they're about to succumb to tears. "It's all about Quinn and whoever led him astray. You're the best person I've met in my life, even after the way people treat you, you don't get bitter, or retaliate. And I'm really sorry about what I said, last night; you do know the important things about me. And as for Seifer, you did your best."

"I was so scared, last night," you admit, tears overflowing your eyes. "I thought it would be like last time. I was terrified! I thought you were going to leave me! It was almost exactly the same as last time!" and you're completely hysteric by this point, arms around my ribs almost painfully.

"Shh..." I try to comfort, rubbing circles into your back. "Faith, dear. I'm with you, at least until you don't want me around. Let's take the rest of the day off, huh? It sounds like we could both use a break after last night. It was really scary, for both of us. That doesn't go away, just because everything turns out okay." I ease us from the counter, walking awkwardly to the door while trying to hold you with both arms. I don't so much as look in the desk's direction where I know the pack is.

Seifer's across the hall. I give him a nod that all but says '_Namaste_,' which he looks shocked by, but returns. Yuujin is near him, but Raijin is no where in sight. I guess he didn't appreciate the help he supplied Quinn. He's not quite so intimidating without the guerilla flanking him. The four of us go our respective ways down the hall.

"Cloud? I think I will try therapy out, at least until it's proven that I don't like it." I'm rewarded with the approving smile that melts my heart every time.

* * *

A/N: Nice to see things getting back to normal. But the problems are far from over. Of course, there will be a reprieve for them, at least for a while.

You guys didn't think Seifer was going to be so uninvolved after Cloud said all those things about him a while back, did you? No, Seifer's not going anywhere, he's fairly important to the storyline.

Sis: It sucks your reviews won't be as consistent, but I'll reply every time there's a new one! You're very important as a reviewer, because I was starting to give up hope for this story until your follow and review (:

Guys! we just broke the 20,000 word marker as of the posting of this chapter! Wahoo!

Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter~~~


	15. Chapter 15

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

Once you've been in a relationship with someone for a few weeks, you've probably experienced something that causes you to do something you don't really want to do, especially without them with you. Ordinarily, not quite as drastic as our problems, but enough to start the 'it'll be okay' phrase. This phrase is usually different in every relationship, but you tend to hear it often. For you, that phrase is:

"You'll do great," you assure with a brief hug.

"I'll keep an eye on him for you," Seifer says, not quite meeting my eyes.

I know Seifer must have been the friend you stayed with that night we argued. Because you had no marks, I trust him just enough to leave you with him at lunch. With Axel.

"Where are you going, anyway?" the redhead asks, popping a cinnamon gummy candy in his mouth.

"It's a secret," you stage whisper, a finger to your lips.

"I'll be back in an hour. _Anything_ happens, I'm coming after you, Almasy."

"And here I thought we were friends," Seifer rolls his eyes.

* * *

The office is a warm one, in terms of heating. But the rest of it is rather cold. A lady probably older than Rosie sits behind the desk, filing her nails. The chairs are black, silky and have a back that all but forces you to sit up straight. there are calendars on each wall to inform you it's November the 14th. And it certainly does feel like a Monday.

The snow falls silently, if not heavily, outside. It's pretty much the only thing assuring that time really is moving. "Squall Leonhart?" A lady asks in a long, off-white tunic with a red sash, Henna all over her arms. I raise a bit hesitantly, to which she smiles. "My name is Ra'sni." Her hair is long and black, draping her body and swaying as she leads me to her office, a more comfortable-looking place with two light red couches that you'd just kind of sink into. "I've looked into your file," she says without the hint of foreign accent. "I know you probably aren't ready to talk about the reason you're here, so, a figured we could just kind of get to know each other a little."

By the end of the session, Ra'sni knows about some of the foster homes, about the football, about the failed scholarship, the lack of acceptance letters, my job at Highwind, my distaste toward Rinoa, and most of the other common knowledge of our school. But she doesn't know about you. I just couldn't bring myself to tell her about the single most important thing in my life, for some reason. The boy who always waits for me at the end of the day with a smile, even after going through Hell. So quick to forgive. The boy I can't live without, because it's practically guaranteed that I'll die if you do.

She pulls out a yellow, circular, metal box from a drawer. "These are natural stress relief tablets, I give them to all my clients. They're elderberry flavored gummies, you just suck on them for a while. If they help you, I'll give you more next month," she offers.

"Thank you. I'll see you on the 5th."

And, though I don't feel a whole lot better yet, I do feel like things will get better, even if it takes a while.

* * *

"How was lunch?"

"It was alright. Too social. Your session?"

"Okay; too talkative."

"How else is she supposed to help?" you ask, incredulous.

"I don't know, it was just weird, all the questions she asked about me, I guess."

"That's what Aerith was like when I started seeing her," you shrug.

"It's just weird, driving all the way to Vitum to meet someone you're going to spill your guts to."

"Well it's not like Prynne has any good therapy offices."

"Point taken."

"You're bellybutton looks better. It's not even red anymore," you note, tracing around the incision.

"Yeah, Ax says I can change it in a few more days."

"Are you going to?"

"No, I like this one."

"Speaking of Axel, he was looking at you kind of funny today."

"Was he? I didn't notice."

"Yeah, like you guys knew something Seifer and I didn't."

I stiffen. "Maybe it was directed more towards Seifer."

"Hmm...yeah, you're probably right."

And that's what I think about, all night. Axel looking at me funny. Because Axel knows something. Because Axel did something. 'Professional.' Uh-huh. No, I'm pretty sure it was just to screw with me, now.

On a better note, things are fine again with Cid and I at work, after being back a while, he stops checking up on me to make sure I'm okay. He put me in charge of posters for the Shin-Ra publicity. Which would be fine, if he weren't looking for Holiday themes. I wanted to say something along the lines of 'Look, I design characters and posters for games. Naibu gives me personalities, I give them looks. I don't make weapon-wielding psycho's look like they enjoy Christmas.' What I really said was: "Sure, Cid. You got it."

* * *

Seifer hasn't been to school for a while, doesn't come back until Friday before break. When he does return, he doesn't talk to anyone. He ignores even Fuu, all but pushing her away physically. He doesn't do any classwork, he doesn't pick on anyone. Lunch comes around and he doesn't even have the energy to smoke. Even I'm worried about him, and I pretty much hate him. We sneak out the side door after school, finding him in his usual place, hand outstretched collecting snow in a dejected fashion with his hood up. Not his usual white jacket and grey pants, but black as the Midgar night sky pants and coat. "Seifer? Are you...okay?" I ask, not really sure what to say.

"Humph. 'Okay.' As if..."

We crouch in front of him. "What's wrong?" you ask, taking his hand in both of yours.

"I'm dying," he says, somewhat whimsically.

"Dying? Dying how? Surely not literally," I ask.

"Literally. Pancreatic cancer. Three months, give or take... One of the least common, most deadly cancers that almost never show up in people under forty-five, yet, here I am..." And something about that rubs me so wrong that I just want to hold him like a friend would. Just makes me want to tap in to the most compassionate side of my self and hold him until he's cried so long he never wants to cry the rest of his life. But he's not crying, and I'm not holding him.

"Surely the would have noticed something earlier?"

"It's called a silent disease for a reason."

We look at each other, something syncing between the three of us. Something making our hearts beat as one and our bodies collide. And even though I don't know Seifer, something makes me want to love him, and I know it isn't pity. It's some kind of epiphany; a realization that he's human, that he needs love. That maybe, just _maybe_ Seifer isn't a horrible person, that acceptance and attention are important and he's probably been looking for them for a long time, now. Now that he is being held, I guess he does feel like crying. It's soft, and I get the feeling that he probably cried a lot since Monday. That he's almost out of tears, but something about the fact that someone who used to hate him somehow still wants to be there for him in crisis. And I kind of want to cry for him, for myself over how I've treated him, over how I never got to know him. But now, I have to have enough strength for three boys, and now is not the time to be breaking down.

At some point, Seifer was invited over for the weekend and when we get home from work for the next nine days (hooray for paid vacation!), he's somehow managed to pull together a proper dinner for us, featuring an unexpectedly good vegetarian Okra stir-fry. I can't sleep later, though. I wonder to the main set of undivided rooms, where Seifer is on the couch. "You still awake?" I whisper.

"How could I possibly sleep?" he answers. I move to the front of the couch, kneeing by his face. "Why are you being so nice to me? Most people would rejoice if they knew I was dying."

"No they wouldn't. Besides, you would do the same for me."

"No, I wouldn't."

"I don't believe that. But I guess we'll never know, because I'm not the one on numbered days," I say, stroking his face in the dim light of the outside world through the window.

"I guess not," he agrees, with a sad sort of laugh. "Though I'd watch what you say, there, you do look thinner."

"Why does everyone think that?" I exasperate. There's a minute of quiet laughter.

Then a minute of silence. "Leon? Do you believe in any sort of afterlife? Because I'm scared...I'm really fuckin' scared..."

"I've never really believed in God..." I respond, honestly. "But...supposing there is a better place to go to after this, I know you'll be waiting there for us." And there it is again, that choking sound that means his face is going to get wet. "C'mere, pretty boy. I got you," I say, holding him again. I learn a lot of things that night. That even some of the lowest people you can think of get scared. That dying people are pretty good company if you can distract them from the fact they're dying. That Seifer really is that good kid you tried to tell me about.

I'm finding that after meeting you, I've been able to talk to people easier.

* * *

A/N: Seifer! T~T Yeah, this is how he becomes important; by dying...just when Leon thought maybe he wasn't such a bad guy...

Hope you enjoyed~~~

Oh, geez, I totally thought this got uploaded yesterday, sorry about that.


	16. Chapter 16

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

We all have expectations about life. As children, we expect it to last forever. We grow up and realize our days are numbered much more than we previously thought, but we believe we're pretty much entitled to at least fifty years, if everything happens naturally. But that isn't always how it goes and Seifer is (for a while longer) living proof of that. We always wonder what facing death is like, but it feels like it looms over you when your friend is dying, like it's not just their grave about to be filled.

I remember when Tracy died, Rodger didn't want to take care of us after that. Sora was so scared. He kept asking me if I was going to die, if I was going to leave him, like she did, until I kissed him on the forehead and told him: 'I may not be assured the promise of tomorrow, but I'll love you while I'm here.' Sora snuck into my room every night after that for a long time. Until I moved out, actually. It makes me wonder whose bed he sneaks into now that my room is empty. Maybe Riku's...or Roxas'... Fuck, we never did talk to them, did we? I guess it's not very important, right now.

Seifer is finally asleep when you come in. Or, at least, I thought he was. "Did you know your hands are freezing?" he asks when I put my hand back to his face after giving you the international sign for 'shh.'

"Sorry, bad circulation," I explain, pulling my hand away.

"I didn't say it as a bad thing," he says, opening his eyes and holding my hands between his. "Does that feel good?"

"Yeah. Warm."

"I always figured you had cold hands, they'd always be discolored at the beginning of class."

"What class do we have together?"

"Had. Advanced chem. I remember looking at them last year, wondering what it would be like to hold them, like Rinoa did."

"She never held my hand."

"She tried. You just didn't let her. Then you finally did start to warm up to her, and saw her with that guy...you looked so shocked, like you didn't know she was a whore."

"That's because I didn't. But now I do, and I don't waste my time on her."

"Is it me, or did you drop another couple degrees when her name came up?"

"Wouldn't surprise me if I did." He holds our hands close, to his chest.

Dying people usually want one of two things: to live longer, or to die sooner. But I feel like it's different with Seifer; like he just wants to make amends while he still can. Death is really just another school staff member, teaching us things and punishing us, even if we've done no wrong. Or, at least not things that are wrong enough to deserve what he gives us. Like when you call Tommy a douche for calling you a faggot and you walk out with three days of ISS and he walks out with nothing. Yeah, that's kind of how Death is, letting monsters like Quinn live and taking out the good kids, like Seifer. Of course, if he wasn't in such a state, I might not know he's a good kid at all, just that we share a common trauma. I'm reminded that I need to finish that letter testifying against him. It would help if I could use Seifer's case, too, but it's been inactive so long I doubt it would be recognized.

I really hate Quinn. I overheard a conversation in Health on Friday, there was this boy and girl arguing about all kinds of things; sexuality, abortion, contraception. And of course the special guest host: rape. It went something like:

_"Well, I'm just saying women should just learn some self defense, they wouldn't get raped if they would just learn how to fight," the boy says, jotting down some of the more important notes._

_"You're kidding, right? You think women deserve to get raped?"_

_"No one _deserves_ to get raped. But how can they be blamed for it if she's not a real woman and doesn't know how to fight?"_

_This is the part where I turn around and look at him rather seriously. "Real men should just learn how to not rape. I could set up the class for them. 'How to not touch people without consent 101.' It would be great, you could stop in, have a little refresher on it."_

That's pretty much how male enemies and female fans are made. Something was seriously off about Friday, it wasn't just Seifer.

"Axel text me, he asked us over for Christmas," you say, spraying the griddle for pancakes. "I asked if Seifer could come, he says we're all family at Steel Snake, whatever that's supposed to mean."

"It's the name of his shop. You know, 'cause steel...piercings...snakes bite people..."

"I feel like you two really bonded over that slice he gave you. Almost makes me want to go into that profession..."

"What slice?"

"Cloud..."

"Oops...well, he's bound to see you without your shirt at some point; you may as well show him."

I lift the thin fabric, showing the metal intrusion somewhat self-consciously. "Can I...touch it?"

"Go for it, you've already seen it."

"It actually suits you pretty well," he compliments, feeling the double prism. "You really have gotten thinner, though," he acknowledges, brushing the faint outline of ribs.

"I gave you permission to touch my piercing, not lift my shirt further... Is it really that bad?"

"It's really that bad. This isn't like an 'Oh, I stopped lifting, so I dropped some muscle mass.' This is like an 'Oh, I forgot to eat several days in a row a few times and, well, I'm pretty much anorexic, now.'" he says.

"I am _not_ anorexic!"

"Maybe not consciously. Most people aren't. But I lost a lot of weight after Quinn the same way. A few weeks ago, you had an apple and an energy bar in your bag for the day. You haven't eaten anything at school since Bodaikian attacked you. I'd wager a bet you haven't eaten unless someone made something for you, or that you lose your appetite sometimes when you cook."

I can't answer. I'm not inclined to answer questions I don't like, because I don't like to lie, but I don't want to confirm the truth, either. Breakfast is pretty quiet, and Seifer is right, I don't have much of an appetite, these days. It's not just this morning. It's not just at school. It's just that there's this constant reminder that someone painted my insides when I'm putting things in my stomach.

The rest of the day pans out all right, we go to the mall for a while, look at all the overpriced things and actually think about getting some, but leaving with very little. It's very hard to pry my gaze from the kittens in the window, but I don't want them to see me staring. If I _really_ wanted to, I could get a cat. I could take one home right now and the apartment manager would give less than one _millionth_ of a fuck. It's a pet friendly place. But what if it doesn't like me? What if it runs away? What if it doesn't like _you_? Oh, how could it not... What if it won't shut up? What if it sprays? What if it claws? What if-?

_You're not getting a cat, Leonhart._ I scold myself. _Don't even think about all of the what-ifs of something that's not going to happen._

You're busy most of the break. Projects and everything. I agonize over the lack of inspiration over my final in art. I only have _one_ class next semester. I think about picking a few more up, maybe another foreign language...but I hate online classes and already took Spanish and German, still wanting nothing to do with Italian. Tracy used to speak to Sora and I in Italian...I don't know why I still bother to care.

We go out for the 25th, Anarchy Café and Almond Dream Ice-Cream, which I finally get you to try for the first time. You agree it's good. And It's a good night. Really, it is. We even touch a little more than we have been lately. Meaning: I let you take of my pants for the first time since October whenever-that-was, but not go too much farther. I decide not to check the mail. I decide I don't want to spoil the night with a rejection letter. My cigarette craving is almost gone by now.

* * *

A/N: Well, a little back story between Rinoa and Squall, nothing too exciting. But, hey, Leon's letting himself get touched by Cloud a little more, a good sign? I hope you all enjoyed, followers new and old~~~


	17. Chapter 17

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

"I just don't understand why that should be a need at this point in my life. Seriously, I just got traumatized by two men, I don't really foresee myself in that position for a while. A very long while."

"Squall- sorry, Leon. You are a teenager. Teenagers need healthy libidos, they can't deal with stress properly without some sort release, and most of you only find that in sex," Ra'sni agues. We've been at this a good thirty minutes now. The first time I've heard of an adult on that angle.

"Suppose I agree with you, maybe I do need it. How could I _possibly _get off after Quinn did that to me?"

"Work your way in to it. You don't have to be with a partner, yet, but those tablets aren't going to solve all of your problems. You need to get used to people touching you again, and the first step to that could very well be touching yourself."

That's the first point of the conversation that I actually feel embarrassed about what we're talking about. "You _are_ kidding right?"

"I'm not," she denies, very serious. "If you don't know how you want to be touched, how is anyone else supposed to know? I struggled with a similar problem until I was twenty-eight, and when my therapist talked with me about it, I was just as red as you are," she explains, gesturing to my face with her pen. "There's all manners of things people get off on, there's _so_ many types of toys, kinks..._books_! Everything. There's so much ground to explore where sexuality plays in your life. And the only way you can find what makes you tick, is by making yourself tick. Have a bedroom brawl with your partner _after_ you know what you like, or they could offend you without meaning to."

* * *

Despite the embarrassment of our talk, what Ra'sni was getting at really did make sense. How could you _possibly_ know what I want, if I don't even know? But, I just don't know if I'm ready to get my libido back, just yet. "I don't know, it was just weird, you know? I mean, how are you supposed to talk about that stuff with someone you hardly know?"

Axel looks up from sterilizing a ring. "Well, who else would you talk about it with? Probably not Cloud. Definitely not Seifer. And me? Not likely! Strangers are actually the best people sex with, because they don't know you personally, so you don't have to feel embarrassed. That's what Terrence and I talk about, like, half our sessions."

"But my therapist is a lady! Shouldn't she feel embarrassed, at least?"

"Not necessarily. I mean, you think Cloud and Aerith don't talk about sex? Haha, total misconception! Cloud may not have been intimate with a whole lot of people, but that doesn't mean he hasn't been intimate a whole lot. He was with _Reno_ when that was legal. You think they were quiet? Hell no! And who else would he talk to about it? Think about it; most of those guys have degrees in human sexuality, who better to dump that stuff on than them?"

"Huh. Guess I never really thought about it like that."

"Congratulations, you're on your first steps to understanding the complex infrastructure known as a therapist's mind."

* * *

Nothing really makes it less embarrassing, though. Surely everyone else would be ashamed of their therapist basically telling them to masturbate. It leads to some odd conversations.

"So, you seriously talk about that with Aerith?"

"Of course I do. Who else would I talk to about it? It's too embarrassing to tell anyone else."

"It's not embarrassing with her?"

"Nah, she was a teenager once. She understands."

"But she was a girl..."

"Are you implying women don't have needs? Because I can think of at least ten examples immediately of the girls at our school," you smirk.

* * *

It doesn't feel like Ra'sni helped at all. Just like she changed her name to Pandora and opened a box of miasmic questions. Damn teenage hormones. Damn therapists. Damn confusion.

School isn't too bad, though. I make it to Health every day that week, and even go to art at the proper period. I would have dropped in for Weights with Rosie, but I don't label that as one of my better ideas after what Seifer said last week. I don't feel particularly weak, but not very strong, either, that being said. I hang at Raasch's mood, mostly. He eyes me, somewhat warily Friday.

"What?" I say, mildly impatient.

"Are you...feeling better?"

"I'm fine."

"But are you better?"

I sigh. "I don't know..."

"How's it been with you counselor?"

"Weird as fuck," I say, thinking back to Monday.

"Are you getting used to it, at least?"

"I've been to all of two sessions, Erik. Ask me in March."

Even though everyone's watching me, I don't feel as uncomfortable about it. Maybe it's because if I know there are so many eyes on me, no one's going to try anything.

* * *

A/N: Short chapter is short. Awkward therapy is awkward. Hope you all enjoyed Leon's confusion.

700+ views! How?! Thank you!


	18. Chapter 18

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying, **Skip the double lines to avoid vague homoeroticism. ** (and how many of you _actually _plan to do that? xD)  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

_There's a point in everyone's life when we realize how little we know. We are given this sense of...awareness of all these things we can never understand. No matter how hard we try, there are things the human brain can never fully understand. Because we are unable... Because we don't want to..._

_Maybe because it hurts too much..._

_But we will never be all knowing beings, not even Charlie Gordon was written to understand everything he knew at his highest point. But we are not characters in a book or play. We are real people, with a real lack of comprehension. Zell will never understand why Matron gave us up. Sora will never understand why Tracy pulled the trigger. And I will never understand why Tracy pointed the barrel at me._

_Why she wanted a twelve year old to watch a bullet lodge itself in her chest, or her blood spatter the walls. __But this is one of those 'it hurts too much to understand' types of incomprehensible situations._

_Because she would have shot me. She had the gun cocked and loaded and pointing at my temple. And she would have shot me. I know she would have. Just not in front of her real son. Not in front of Sora, never in front of Sora. She'd planned it for months. She got the gun, the bullets, the motive...all months before she ever aimed it at anything. Sora will never know that it's completely my fault. Wouldn't believe me if I told him. He would tell me not to blame myself for her depression._

_But, it really was my fault, no matter how much he would deny it._

* * *

You're still asleep when I wake up. You're always asleep. I'm jealous, because you can sleep for hours without having a bad dream. You never seem to dream of anything, good or bad, after that first night. You don't wake up and need water in the middle of the night. You don't feel the hands of your demons around your throat. Or see visions of the people you love dying. Oblivious to the fact that demons don't really live in Hell, but rather in humans. Well, you might know that much. But don't seem to realize you sleep next to one every night, for some reason.

I trace your stomach, the vague outline of muscles forming, realizing I'm probably thinner than you at this point, even if I am taller.

"I've been waiting..." you mumble, and I'm not sure I heard you right.

"Waiting for what?" I ask, nuzzling your shoulder.

"For you to touch me...you never touch me... Did you know that, Leo-" you break, yawning "-Leon?"

"Yeah, I know that."

"It makes me feel unsexy," you explain, turning to me but not opening your eyes.

"I assure you: you're the sexiest thing I've ever laid eyes on," I smile.

"As sexy as Roy Mustang in a miniskirt?"

I smile at the familiarity of the words. "Sexier. Now go back to sleep, you need to rest."

"What about Leon? He never sleeps...never comes to bed...gets up early and leaves me here..."

"What a bastard," I sympathize with a grin.

"Yeah," you yawn, drowsily. "What a bastard..."

* * *

"Someone's up late," you say, hearing my footsteps.

"Got accused of getting up too early last night," I smile, cracking my joints back into place.

You grimace. "I will never get used to that popping noise."

I grin widely. "Then I guess I'll have to get up before you."

You approach me, hands finding themselves under my shirt in an embrace while you stand on your toes to give me a kiss. Not like the ones we've been having that are short and chaste, but a long, slightly sloppy one because it hits at the wrong angle. But I'm not complaining, hands slipping into your loose shorts, not surprised to find the skin beneath bare. Still not complaining.

"Did you get some good sleep, at least?" you ask, finally pulling away.

"Yeah, better, anyway."

"Good. I'm having Axel and Seifer go to the mall with us, because I still don't know what to get you, so I need some help."

"That makes two."

"Then it's good I called both of them."

The mall is packed, so close to Christmas and everything. "Has his sleep talking been getting to you, yet?" Seifer asks, on the topic of a conversation I don't remember starting, but know has been going on for at least fifteen minutes.

"We have some good talks in his sleep."

"Oh really?" he asks, laughingly. "How so?"

"Well, how else am I supposed to know he wants me to sleep in more, or thinks I'm a bastard if we're having a talk while he's conscious?" I smirk.

"He called you a bastard?"

"No, I did. But he agreed."

"You two must talk about some interesting things..." he says, picking up a CD case, handing it to me. "Damien Rice. This is Cloud's favorite album."

"So, screamo?"

"You think that's all he listens to?"

"That's all he has on his phone," I shrug.

"That's because Roxas called him a pansy for all of the other stuff. Trust me, Cloud's not a screamo buff _at all_."

I guess that's when I realize what I said before -while insensitive- was fairly true: we don't know each other very well. We didn't even wait a month before messing around. But we do know the important things, so you were right too.

"There's some great love songs on here. We should swap numbers, we could chill to this sometime!"

"Oh, umm..." It takes me a moment to realize what she's asking, not because it isn't blatant in every possible way, just because women make me so uncomfortable that I forget they _can_ hit on me. Luckily, Seifer's there for the rescue.

"Sorry," he says leaning in. "This one's taken."

"Oh? Oh! Oh, I'm sorry!" She apologizes, digging out our change. "Please come again," she says, flushed.

I end up getting him some acrylic paints, brushes, and a palette for good measure, remembering Raasch tell me his favorite medium.

Seifer drags me to the food court (his treat) after a short-lived argument ending with "Last time I checked, it didn't require a search party to find your first seven ribs." Lo mien never looked so embarrassing.

* * *

CLEON

* * *

Ironically, it's Sunday when I take Ra'sni's advice. It didn't start out as the plan. Just...you know, those things people think about when they're alone for thirty minutes and think they can get away with when their roommate has been gone for thirty minutes and they really need to feel...you know, those things they think about with their roommates gone for thirty minutes.

They never get away with it, do they?

Catching sight of blond spikes, I should probably feel embarrassed. I should probably stop. But any of those things I should probably do...well, I don't do them. Because there's something about having you see me like this that's just...erotically risqué and though my face lights up, it's more due to the way the coil in my stomach tightens than it is to embarrassment. Finally, my back arches from the bed in possibly the most unnatural way it can, but somehow manages to ease an unnoticed discomfort.

The delayed chagrin finds a way of catching up after a couple shaky fails at a steadying breath, coming out in the form of a guest appearance of that awkward laugh from Axel's shop. Though I'm very much mortified at what I just did in front of you, I don't want to seem uncool. So, naturally, I go for the insidiously coy effect. "I didn't know you were in to voyeurism," _Jesus_, I hate my brain sometimes. I take it as a good sign that if your face weren't blatant enough to tell me exactly what kind of mood you are in, the tightness of your pants says it's going to be a challenge to tick you off with just that.

"I didn't know _you_ were in to voyeurs!"

* * *

CLEON

* * *

A/N: Awkward sexual experience, anyone? xD

Well, I hope you all enjoyed Leon's misfortune (or was it?) in this chapter...what a depressing start...

To the five people following this story, I hope I didn't disappoint. I'm looking forward to reviews, especially from you, Sis~~~


	19. Chapter 19

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

There's not really an improper way to go about waking up after an intense night like we had. Unless it's Monday, then I can think of many ways it could go wrong. Like waking up late, or not getting your homework done. Luckily, that is not one of those Mondays. We wake up with -literally- hours to spare after turning in so early. But it bothers me how we haven't talked to our siblings yet. Though, when I voice the concern, you seem to laugh at me.

"What?"

"Speak for yourself, I have advanced art with Roxy."

"So, you know what's going on?"

"Yeah, I guess they've been together a while, now. Sounds like just before you moved out."

"Hmm...I wonder...why Sora didn't think he could tell me..."

"The same reason why Roxas didn't tell me, I'd presume."

"And Riku? What exactly is he in their...group?"

"Nothing romantic, don't start worrying, yet. Riku is...like moral support, for them. He's not really sure what he is, I guess. Which sort of explains like...his entire life, but, yeah. Roxas is totally uninterested and Sora's not about to jump Riku, either, or anything, from what I hear. You really haven't talked to him, though?"

"Only over the phone. I wanted to wait until we were face-to-face. And that's just about impossible, for us. He's a Freshman, so he's always busy. With seven classes, soccer practice and an overly demanding foster father who takes care of him for the soul purpose of having something to yell at, he...never really has time for me, anymore..."

You hold me from behind. "I'm sure he'll find time for you if you ask him."

"Te amo, mi amor."

"Is using your Spanish skill your way of sounding sexy, or changing up the game so I have to pay attention?" you ask, amused.

"Depends; which did it accomplish?"

"A bit of both."

"There's your answer."

"Turn around, I want to kiss your face."

"What about the boiling water?"

"Just turn around, ya twip," you order.

"Gee, I don't really have a choice now, do I?"

This time, there is no bad angle, just a perfect sort of kiss with just the right amount of teeth and tongues and I'm really quite disappointed when I really do hear the water boil and have to turn away. Pale fingers run through dark strands, occasionally catching a tangle, but causing no pain. "Your hair has gotten so long."

"Is that a tip that I should cut it soon?" I ask, slightly (well, really majorly) self-conscious at the implication.

"No, I rather enjoyed having something to pull last night. But layering wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe get some hair spray in there..."

"So, it looks unstylish?"

"No, I'm just saying it could be more styled... But, it's your hair, do what you will."

"Maybe I'll ask Sora his input soon."

"So you _are_ going to talk to him."

"I'm going to try. And if trying doesn't work, he's going to have lunch in the art room."

"There's the confidence I've been looking for."

"Are you implying I'm acting like a coward?"

"Little bit, yeah," you agree.

"Not even going to argue."

"That's good, because you'd never win."

* * *

"Where are we going, Squall?!"

"Stop shouting; it's obnoxious. And it's _Leon,_" I remind, pointedly.

"You may have changed a lot, but your name is the same to me," he counters. _How does this kid stay so bright all the time_? _You'd never even guess we were half brothers_...

You look up at the door opening, seeming shocked at the presence of two brunets. "Oh, you were serious?"

"When am I not?"

You seem to ponder the question. "Last night when you called me a vo-"

"_Don't_ answer that...and I was serious."

"You think I'm a pervert?"

"You're sixteen, Cloud, we were all perverts. Even innocent little Sora is destined to gain some perverse habit by his sixteenth birthday."

"What?!"

"Relax, it's a joke, you're dying a virgin as far as I'm concerned."

"I thought you were always serious?" Cloud cuts in, smirking.

"Exaggerated. But, obviously, I was serious about Sora."

"Well, you don't exactly need a briefing on the trio."

"No, but I thought I should talk to him, anyway."

"I _am_ still here," Sora mutters.

"Like I can forget with this atmosphere," I jest with an eye roll.

"I thought you liked me," he pouts.

I pull him into a one-armed hug. "Hey, you're always gonna be my favorite orphan! And I do still love you, little brother. Promised, didn't I?"

"'Here when you need me, but not about to embarrass you,'" he quotes. "Or, something like that. Have you lost weight?"

"Why does everyone think that?" I sigh.

"Maybe because you have?" Sora supplies, unhelpfully.

Nothing's particularly ground-breaking about Sora. You'd think nothing changed since the emancipation, except, well, Roxas. Who we spend an almost embarrassingly long time talking about. But I guess I feel a little closer to you after, knowing more about your sibling. I guess he comes off pretty cold to most people, but the way you two talk about him, it's like he's as cuddly as the window of cats at the Vitum Mall. I feel like this is probably similar to what happens when you get two like-minded fangirls in a room together and have them try and explain their obsession to a non-fan. Though, it sounds like Roxas and I would get on well enough.

* * *

A/N: Character development~ God these last few chapters have been short... But I wrote the next one with this and I didn't feel like they complimented eachother very well, so I'm still revising and finding transitions and ahh! I'm still new to this, so please be patient.

Hope you enjoyed, everyone~~~


	20. Chapter 20

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud, a little bit of Riku/Vanitus in later chapters  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

It's no time at all before the four of us are in the house section of Axel's parlor in the midst of an overly large tree. "How exactly do you plan on getting that out of here?"

"Reno got it, so I wouldn't feel so bad about him leaving with Rude and Saix doing...whatever he does this time of year."

"Do they ditch you every year?"

"Not usually Reno, but Saix apparently has some kind of lycanthropic love affair on Christmas," the redhead shrugs.

It's a warm atmosphere, the kind I miss having with Sora...but he didn't want to come, because Seifer. The boys are coming over tomorrow, though, so it's not as bad. Huh, it's been over a year since I was emancipated...I guess I didn't notice.

Christmas never really held a place in my heart. I mean, sure, it was celebrated in most of my homes, but it never really felt magic or anything. Sitting around with these three, though, with our crazy scarves hot drinks, there's a certain kind of appeal to the festivities. I can almost understand why Sora always came running down early in the morning on this day every year.

"Whaddya think? Lovebirds first?" Axel asks after a few hours of sitting around.

"I want Leon to accept my gift, first," Cloud agrees.

"Go get her," Axel encourages. I didn't really think it was weird how he called it by a gender. Like the way ships or swords are often named female.

"I kind of lied about not knowing what to get..." But I am confused by the blanketed basket. "I noticed you always looked at them, and I checked with the manager and thought we could use a female around the house, so...yeah... What do you think?"

"You-you got me a cat?" I ask, holding up the calico, no bigger than my hands. "I just...gods, I love you! What's her name?" I ask, looking between you and the kitten.

"She doesn't have one, yet. I figured you should name her, your present and all," you say, face lighting up. She was purring, and it's the most amazing thing in the world to me. I've always had dogs, never really cared for them, obnoxious and all. They were more Sora's type of pet, hyperactive just like him.

"I feel so lame giving this to you," I say, handing over your own present.

But you smile, a genuine, touched smile, looking between Seifer and I. "This brings back memories..."

"Don't look at me; he paid for it," Seifer informs nonchalantly.

"It's from both of you. These, however," you say, pulling out the painting materials, "That's all you, huh, Leon? My favorite brand, I never told Seifer that. C'mere," you order, kissing my forehead and seating yourself next to me once again.

A few more gifts are exchanged but something rubs me the wrong way about Axel's smirk as he tosses me the mysteriously festive package. "Is this appropriate for a public setting?" I ask mistrustfully.

He laughs openly. "Depends on what circles you're spinning in. Should be fine, here," he says with raised brow. "Go on, open it."

I don't very much like the tone he uses, but comply, tearing the paper from the small rectangular box. Instinctively, my hand flies to my mouth, and I feel you trembling in silent laughter at my left. I look up to glare at the tattooed man, who looks overly smug. "You coy bastard."

"What? What is it?" Seifer asks, innocently.

"Well, it seemed like Leon couldn't take Cloud's subtle hints about the bedroom, so I thought I could use the opportunity to speed up the process more blatantly," Axel shrugs. Seifer seems to pale at the implication, but not you, oh, no. You just laugh more audibly. "Cloud may or may not have mentioned something about it hurting to walk properly with only the stuff Leon uses to polish his pocket knives, so I figured I'd give something a little more slippery for their bedroom life," he finishes, examining flawless holiday-red painted nails. I just cuddle closer to the cat, the only one who has no idea what's going on and isn't feeling uncomfortable or poking fun at me. "Conditioner also works pretty great, but I figure you don't keep that anywhere but the shower," he goes on, playfully.

"Mother Jenova, did no one ever teach you when to shut your fucking mouth?"

"It has better uses open. Of course if you were to give me something to suck on, I might be silenced for a little while," he winks. I throw a candy cane none too gently at his face, severely disappointed as he ducks, but at least he kept to his word about shutting up.

A few more hours pass, with a couple alcoholic beverages and plenty of rounds of Pocky with everyone, started by Axel and encouraged by you. Which only gives Axel a reason to kiss me much less professionally as well as much more deeply than the first time. I come to the conclusion that you seriously must be a voyeur at this point, because I can't think of anyone else who would get so excited about their boyfriend kissing someone else. I certainly wasn't quite as impressed.

* * *

Being all but thrown onto the bed by a rather tipsy blond wasn't part of my Christmas plan, but neither was getting a cat, so chances are it'll be enjoyable.

"Tell me what you want," you urge from your perch on my stomach.

"Pasarla muy bien mientras portarme muy mal en los brazos de algún caballero. Como tu," I enlighten huskily.

"While that could quite possibly be the hottest thing you could do, I can't understand one fucking word you just said," you admit, heatedly.

"I said: I want to have fun with behaving brazenly in the hold of a man. Like you."

"Makes more sense."

"Mantente atento."

"Don't you just want to make us all speak Spanish?"

"Hn."

"I hate it when you resort to monosy-llables," you inform, voice caught in some sort of hiccup on the last word.

"You're drunk."

"Does that have a point?"

"If you even feel vaguely motion sick, one of us is sleeping on the couch, and it won't be me."

"Nope. It'll be the cat," you say playfully, latching your mouth to my shoulder and sliding your hands further up my shirt.

"Y-yeah, and you'll be next to her...mmh!"

* * *

_Plenty of things tell me that this isn't happening. That this man is far away from me and hopefully not coming back any time soon. but I can't help believing it, because I told myself it wasn't happening the first time, though it certainly had been. I shiver, I try to struggle away. Nothing helps though, he just presses further into me, tightens his hold on my throat._

_"Just remember, Squall," he says, the familiar beginning of a phrase I knew so well, from so many nightmares and one harsh occurrence of reality. "The more you shake, the more you give away."_

_I was Squall to him, this entire time. I wasn't Leonhart, or Leon, or even Lion Punk Cornerback. I was Squall, because he knew he wasn't allowed to call me that. That no one had been able to call me that since Tra- don't think about it. You don't really want to remember, do you? No, I don't._

_My struggles become more fierce; I need to get away. He's choking me; I can't breath. Doesn't he know that I'm going to die if he keeps this up? Is that what he's aiming for? I try to cry out, try to lash out, try to get out, but nothing works. My vision goes from an unnaturally foreboding sepia tone, the edges blurring out and becoming black before he clamps my throat even tighter, and everything goes completely black. But I can still feel him, still vaguely aware of what's happening to my body in my doubly unconscious state. Still feel the violation that is the ginger-haired, freckle-faced quarterback, Quinn who is easily twice my size in reality, and only seems to grow in my subconscious._

* * *

My eyes open after a moment.. For a moment, that's all I can do; peel the covers from the storms that are my eyes, in so many ways. The rest of my body is in the temporary paralysis of sleep, my brain telling my body that I need to remain still because I'm still asleep. Even though I'm not. The stiffness fades and I can move myself -both reluctantly and eagerly- from your sleeping form.

You don't seem to be in a talking mood, which is good because I can't be around you for a few minutes. I take for the showers at your lack of sleep conversing skill, thanking whatever presence may be responsible. The water is hot. The water is always hot. Searing, even. That's how I need it to be in times like this. Something that seems to rid the demon of my memory of Boudaikian, who always leaves my body chilled, as you would imagine a ghost to. I don't turn the light on. I barely close the door. I grudgingly lean my arms and forehead against the somehow still cool tiles of the shower only when my vision threatens my with fainting. I don't know how long I'm there, but you came looking at some point, though I don't register your existence until you've encircled me from behind. It's actually calming. You are so different than him. Much more pale. More gentle. And smaller, so much smaller. Smaller than even me, which is hard for most males in high school, as I'm barely the average height of five-nine. But I like that you're smaller. More fragile, yet somehow less breakable, if only in spirit. I'm almost able to understand why Seifer always wanted to hurt you, in some horrifying fascination. No matter what he did, you always came back for more, not expecting but still hoping it would be different...

"_Leon_?"

But what do I know?

No, you're the perfect enigma, no one will ever fully understand you. Some mix of Stockholm Syndrome and your own twisted desires for someone to love you, no matter how sickly it is. I don't -will never- understand you completely, even if there was a part of me that was so similar. The part of me that didn't fear a gun aimed to kill me, the part of me that assured her that it was okay, that I deserved it...

"Leon, answer me!"

"What is it, Cloud?"

"You have to get out of here. Your nose is bleeding."

For the first time in what seems like forever, my eyes come in to focus, and I see that you are -as per usual- correct. There is a steady drip on the porcelain white tiles from an origin somewhere on my face, most likely my nose, as you've already pointed out. I stretch into a regular posture, exiting the stall with your arms steadying me. Small arms, but strong arms. Strong enough, at least, to support me.

I press a rag to my face while you start to dry me off with a fluffy towel I don't recognize, before wrapping me with both the fabric and your arms. "Is this...my fault? Are we moving to fast for you to recover?"

I turn around to encircle you. "It's not your fault."

And the absolute truth is: it's my fault.

* * *

A/N: Well, the chapters are getting long again, which is always a good sign. Melancholy mood is melancholy... Well, the little bro duo is due in the next chapter, so things should get better.

Sis: Yeah, they totally screwed that night, I just wanted to get the chapter up, so I didn't want to keep writing and write the actual implications, but there should be enough proof in the beginning of this chapter. Hope you enjoyed.

And everyone else, especially my six followers!~~~


	21. Chapter 21

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

"This needs to stop." The twelve seconds of Antebellum following those words are a Hell in which my breath and heart stop all together. Twelve seconds. I count them. Twelve seconds for you to clarify. "These hot showers aren't good for you, Leon. Normally heated showers don't cause bloody noses; you need to tone it down."

"Hn."

"C'mon, you need to get dressed. Sora's going to be here, soon."

"Hn."

"I hate it when you do that..."

I almost do it again out of habit, but stop myself and say: "Sorry," instead.

Really though, Sora wasn't going to be here for a while. He's not here in the time it takes us to eat, brush our teeth and put a decent sized dent in a pot of coffee. A knock finally sounds at ten something, accompanied by a key directly after. "You're late," I inform, glancing at the trio.

"We had to convince the Hell out of this pansy to come with us," your little brother counters, playfully pushing the tall teen into the youngest one. "Bullshitting us about how it's a 'family gathering.'"

"_Language,_ mister."

"Whatever," Roxas rolls his eyes at you. "Like you haven't said worse."

"I'll look at us equal when you move out of Claudia's house."

He makes some unknown gesture that probably implies 'Whatever.'

"It's nice to meet you in person; Sora never stops talking about you," I say, hand extended.

"Does he, now?" he asks accepting my hand with a smirk and a sidelong glance at his boyfriend.

I never really liked that terminology. It's what they use to describe each other, but I hate to direct it at you, not when I feel like we're so much more. Even 'lover' I feel would be inadequate. But it's too soon for 'soulmate,' -at least out loud- not to mention too cliche. Yet, if someone asked me who Cloud Fenrir Strife was, that's the first think that would come to mind. The soulmate of Squall Ultrix Leonhart. But I'm not sure that's what we really are, as opposed to what I want us to be. If you could hear some of the things that go on in my head, I wonder what you'd say, how you'd feel. Would it scare you? Would it make you comfortable? Or happy, or sad? Would you be angry with how easily I brand you as my own? That really is what I want. To be with you forev-

"Hell-_ooo_, Space Captain? Anyone out there?"

"Stop it, Sora," I say, batting at the younger incarnate of an uncaring father.

"I asked a question!"

"Hn?"

"Why didn't you tell me you got a cat?"

"Because I received said cat yesterday."

"What's her name?"

"She doesn't have one."

"How old is she?"

"How old is she, Cloud?"

"Six weeks, I think."

"You know, Squall and I never had any cats, growing up. We had plenty of dogs, but he never liked them; one day our dog, Cerberus, chased him up a tree, and he-"

"_Sora_."

"Oh! Sorry."

"What? What happened?" both you and your younger brother ask.

"Cerberus was mauled by a lion and a tiger. End of story. Happy now, Sora?"

"That's not how it happened."

"So there are some forgotten details. Do they really need to know?"

The younger Leonhart shakes his head, "Sorry Leon. It was a cool story, though."

"Your mind distorted it. You were young, and didn't understand. For Cerberus, it was a tragedy. For me: a horror. And for Greiver and Shiva: their nature."

Riku is in clear discomfort, unused to larger crowds and unsettled by irritated siblings, hands clasped in his lap.

Riku was always a shy boy, at least, by the time we'd moved to Prynne. He tried to act arrogant when he was fifteen, but he didn't like having to put up a front all the time; it took too much energy, and he just didn't want to. But Riku had always opened up to me, those times we were alone. I hoped I wouldn't be the last person he opened up to; that someone would break him out of his shell, someday, and he could love that person. That he could smile in content, and not be afraid all the time.

"You know, she's awfully quiet. Isn't that a bad thing?" Riku asks, his first input to the conversation.

"It means she's content, she doesn't have anything to complain to us about," I say, picking up the flurry of black, white, and orange, who curls into my stomach, purring lightly.

"You really do know you're way around cats, for someone who never had any," Roxas notes, aloud.

"It's not entirely true I never had cats. I just never had any at home. We lived in a foster home in Balamb for a while, and I took up an apprenticeship to a feline beast tamer. That's where I met Griever and Shiva, the black lion and white tiger. After the incident with Cerberus, we moved here, and -as you could guess- haven't seen them since," I say, unaffected, soothing the only female in the house, nuzzling into me.

"Cerberus, he gave you that scar on your thigh, didn't he?..."

"...He did."

"I asked you, before, and you wouldn't tell me."

"A true warrior doesn't boast the death of an enemy. That's how I was taught, anyway." I get up, pouring more cat food, soaking it with water. "I'm going on a walk, would you set this down when it's soft?"

"Sure thing."

"Can I go with you?"

Everyone looks at Riku. "It's just...sorry, never mind..."

"No, it's fine, you can come. It'll be boring, though."

"I dunno, Leon, after your last walk..." Sora starts

"What happened on your last walk?"

"_Nothing_. Come on, Riku."

It's quiet for a long while, the only sound being the crunching of snow beneath the soles of our shoes. But then- "You know, we haven't talked for a long time..."

"Hn. Since I moved out, right?"

"Yeah...then you just...stopped talking to everyone."

"I called Sora, every now and then."

"But you met Cloud. Then, sometimes I thought I saw you smile. I...think I might have been jealous, you know? We couldn't reach you, but then you met him, and everything changed. But, I'm happy, too. Because I missed it when you smiled...I hated Tracy, for what happened. She stole you away from us. We were all too young to understand. We just wanted you to get better. Then you grew up and you acted so self assured...I wanted to be like you...But when you moved, it was like you were abandoning us..."

"I wasn't abandoning you, Riku. I just needed to be alone."

"I know...I know that. But still, I-"

"You're over-thinking this. I needed to leave, so I left. Not to abandon you, or Sora, or anyone else. I left for me, and for no other reason."

"Sorry, Squall..."

"You apologize too much. Apparently, you haven't learned a thing from high school."

And it's quiet, again. So quiet it's not impossible I've gone deaf. The wind stopped completely, snow fluttering silently to the ground. It's been shoveled on this road, a nice presentation of downtown Prynne. A nice, deceptive version of Prynne, home of monsters and victims and all things between. How many are there, here alone? Like Quinn? Like Tracy? Like...me?

"It's never like this."

"Like what?" I ask.

"Empty, not here. Not by your apartment. There're always children playing, or teens holding hands. Widow Bobby on her porch, knitting or something. But not today, no one's outside. Even though the weather is better than usual. It's like they're...scared of something."

I clench my teeth, loosen them. "What would they be afraid of, Riku?"

"I...don't know..."

But he does know. He knows because he sees him as well as I do. He knows because his vision is near perfect, and how can you miss such ominous black against such pure white. He knows because if he didn't recognize him at first, the tremor of my hand is more than enough to give it away. He knows because nothing else is so purely made of horror. Quinn Boudaikian had been released. Quinn Boudaikian is on the other side of the street.

"Hurry, Axel's place is just down the road."

* * *

"Did he see you?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. He would be here, if he had."

"Please wait, I'm almost done!" a voice calls from the next room. It sounds like Axel, but part of me knows it isn't. The voice is too professional.

"I'm on it," another voice calls, and that must be him. "Woah, back so soon? I know, you can't resist, right?"

"This is Axel?" Riku asks.

"Yeah, this is Axel."

"So tell me: back for another hole or what? 'Cause no one needs that blindfold more than you."

I ignore him, something I've gotten pretty alright at. "Boudaikian is back."

His grin falters, then vanishes completely. He replaces it with a grim frown. "What do you mean 'Boudaikian is back?'"

"I mean exactly what I said. Quinn Boudaikian has been released from James County Juvenile Hall."

The red head breathes a curse, emerald eyes glowing with a kind of seriousness I didn't know he was capable of. No, not just seriousness; _hatred_. For what, I wasn't sure, but I know that look, perhaps better than anyone. It was the watered down version of the look Tracy gave me the day she died. That's the look a person gets when they harbor enough hate that they want the other dead.

"'He's a minor, so they couldn't keep him.' 'It was a first offence,' so they went easy. Or maybe he had a good lawyer, or lied. None of those things, those pathetic _excuse_ for reasons, are enough to justify his being let free. None of those could vindicate him in a thousand lifetimes."_  
_

"Axel-"

"What's going on?" the like-haired man asks, emerging from behind a curtain with a blonde girl, who I recognize graduated our school last year.

She pulls on her black jacket. "I'm going home, babe," she directs at the lanky red-head behind the counter.

"No, I'll drive you."

"It's five blo-"

"Non-negotiable, Larx. I'll explain on the way. You two: wait here," he says seriously. "Reno will take care of you."

At first, I thought Axel and Reno looked the same. I guess I never really compared them before, but now that I'm actually talking to his twin, I can see the differences. They're small, but the twins aren't completely identical. Axel's eyes are deep emerald and clear, intense. But Reno's are cloudy, almost turquoise and relaxed. Axel is thinner, much thinner, less muscled than Reno. Reno's hands are made more for art than piercing, Axel's more for piercing than art. But they are similar, very similar. Probably why their tattoos are so different.

"I've heard of you, but who's this?" Reno asks, pulling out a cigarette.

"This is Riku. We've been friends a long time."

"Prynne isn't all that big. Why haven't we met?"

"I...don't get out a whole lot, I guess..." Riku replies, disenchanted by the presence of a stranger.

That's the biggest problem with Riku. He sucks at making friends. It's not that he's antisocial, he just doesn't know how to deal with people. His parents were never home, and he didn't have any siblings. Scratch that -he probably had plenty of half siblings. He just didn't know them. He warmed up to Sora quickly, but didn't talk to me for months after we moved here. He didn't talk to any of the other children, mostly because they picked on him over his unique hair color, among other things. But Sora wouldn't leave him alone, always there with him. He called him 'pretty' a lot when we were younger, didn't really understand the concept that the older kids would just pick on them more if people called him pretty. But the other children finally started coming around, the younger ones, mostly. Wakka, Chappu, Tidus, Kairi, and Selphie. Then there was that blond boy... What was his name? We were always fighting. He was older than me, I think... Doesn't really matter, I guess.

That's what memories are for: to forget. We try to save the ones we cherish, but they get distorted. While the bad ones only become more clear. They're to remember not to repeat the mistakes of the days before, or the years before. Mystery boy from my childhood? Not notable. He didn't cause enough damage to be worth avoiding in the future, or mean enough to me to try to hold on to.

But Quinn...I would remember him the rest of my life. And I would have taxis drop me off two blocks from my house, watch my drinks carefully, and carry my keys between my fingers. Just in case.

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry this didn't get up sooner, I've been having computer trouble.

So, I've been thinking of doing the Riku/Vanitus thing as a separate story, like a side story or whatever, because I don't want to make this story much more than ten more chapters, and I feel like if I go into their stuff, it'll get too long, so if you're following this story for that, you can message me and I'll give you a heads up for when I start that. (Which isn't likely to happen until _Loving Corpses -_my Cloud/Seph story_- _is finished. Sorry~)

Well, thank you to all for making it this far, I hope you'll consider reviewing.

Thank you especially: Lord and Sis, for your continued review and support, the couple favoriters and the five followers. Have a nice day ^_^


	22. Chapter 22

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

_Riku is...a dancer, of sorts. An independent one, who twirls around the others, avoiding their touch, their gaze, and themselves, in general. Without meaning to be, he draws the attention of the crowd and becomes Prima Donna without the intention. Many try to dance with him, his emotions, his friends, his life. But he stylishly rejects them, pirouetting away to his own space and hoping no one will be there. This now includes me, his best friend growing up. But Sora is another kind, a lazy sort of dancer, who needs a partner to hold him close. I was that partner, most of his life. But I left him, to watch from the balcony and hope no one saw me. While I was looking away, he found someone else; he found Roxas. I looked back to Sora, and nothing felt right. Much like Riku, Sora believed I had abandoned him and -while he still looked up to me- he was distant, and I cannot reach him, didn't dare to when I could. I know that everything will fall apart for him -maybe in a month, maybe in a year- but I can't do anything to stop it and I can't be his partner again._

_He is untouchable._

* * *

Why did Sora say it that day? Instead of 'I love you,' or even just 'See you soon?' Why did it have to be 'Here's your keys,' as he moodily walked away? It wasn't like he said he hated me or anything, but I felt that was even worse. He felt I wasn't worth the words. That was the day I knew we could never be the same. The balcony had been locked, and I couldn't get back to him. Tracy told me, the day Cerberus died: "This will heal with time," she assured, patting the bandaged thigh gently. "And so will everything else."

But that was a lie.

The blood stopped flowing, true, but the scar will never fade, never heal. And the memory will always be there too, never fading or healing, in fact growing more vivid and gnarled than the day it happened, playing over and over; a song in repetition. A mastiff/pit bull mix with his locked jaw around my thigh until I can pull free to lead him to the arena. The arena of wild cats, tamed for show, but not tamed well enough to fight the scent of blood. Yet, they never attacked me, the bleeding one. Instead: the beast who harmed me.

I hate dogs.

Even before Cerberus, I've hated dogs. Perhaps my entire life, I've hated them. Tracy, Rodger, and Sora would go on walks and take them. But I would never go, not me. Not timid Squall Leonhart who had his giant cats.

"The sheep don't care too much for the sheepdog. Do you know why, Seifer?"

"Umm...no, I don't. Why?"

"It's because the sheepdog looks an awful lot like the wolf he protects them from. They flee from him, in terror that he will kill them. And, one day, he did. Do you know why, Seifer?"

"No. Why?"

"Because the sheepdog is family with the wolf. He came from the wolf, and he acted as the wolf. Even though he had been trained his whole life not to. Even though he knew the farmer would shoot him for it. The nature of the sheepdog is the same as the nature of the wolf, and no one can deny their nature. Not you, or I, or Quinn."

As for me, I had been locked out on the balcony with the Wolf. My wolf has different a different name from Seifer's wolf. My wolf is Quinn, and his wolf: Death. But Quinn is the Wolf, and the Wolf is Death.

"Leon, how are you so calm?"

"You can strip a dog of many things, but nature is not one. The sheepdog became the wolf, and the wolf wants blood. Also, you can teach a lion many things, but you can strip it of nothing. Quinn is a wolf, but...maybe I'm a lion," I laugh, quietly.

"Are you okay? Did you hit your head or anything?"

"Quinn hit me. But that's not my problem." _No, my problem is Sora, but I created that problem. And this one, for that matter._

* * *

_I missed Sora. I had missed him for a long time. But that's why I couldn't be around him. I had been locked on the other side of the door, and he didn't know where to look. Didn't _want _to know where to look. I hate it._

_"Leon, you've been looking kind of off since break. Something happen?"_

_"I can see the things that are wrong, but I can't change them. I can't stop my brother from getting hurt. Any advice I give would go without head; he doesn't know me anymore."_

_"Well, what's wrong? I doubt I can help, but it's worth a shot," the blond shrugs._

_"Roxas."_

_"What about him?"_

_"He's a good kid, but he doesn't love Sora. At least, not like Sora loves him. And I believe Sora only thinks he feels that way about Roxas."_

_"You think Roxas is a good kid? We even talking about the same brat?"_

_"Roxas Strife, the kid you went after the night of mid-season scrimmage. The very same."_

_"Can we just put out there that straight A's do not constitute a 'good kid?'"_

_"Then what does?"_

_He pauses his blade against mine with an incredulous look, forcing me back unless wishing him injury. "Little Roxy-Boy is about a hop away from joining the drug cartel, forget the skip and jump. Sure, he's not _on_ anything yet, but he's totally Xemnas' bitch. Your unease is called for."_

_"Hey, sorry I'm late, I was getting some wo- What are you _doing_?"  
_

_"Obviously, we're sparring," Seifer says with an eye roll._

_"They're not...are they?"_

_"They are," I answer, filling in the blanks._

_"You could get hurt!"_

_"His idea," I indicate._

_"We're careful," he defends, lazily, disproving that theory with a rather hard slash to my own blade._

_"Stop. _Now_. Put those things away."_

_I shrug, sheathing the metal, Seifer following the gesture. You shake your head, clearly disapproval etched on your face. "A friend in need's a friend indeed, but a friend who'll bleed is better," the emerald eyed man shrugs._

_"And a 'friend dressed in leather,' that's Leon, too, right?"_

_"Naturally," he smirks._

_"I feel something's been lost in translation."_

_"It's a song, Leon. 'A friend in need's a friend indeed, a friend with weed is better. A friend with breasts and all the rest, a friend who's dressed in leather,'" Cloud enlightens._

_"Hn."_

_I receive a 'look' at the use of my monosyllabic language, but you don't say anything. "Yuffie talked to me today. She asked why we haven't been coming to their things."_

_"Tell her they're too crowded. Or lame. Or I don't like her, so I don't want to. They're equal in truth," I supply._

_"She really likes you, though. You could at least talk to her."_

_"You have no idea."_

_"Huh?"_

_"Yuffie isn't actually gay, I don't think. Well, she might be bisexual, but what I mean to say is: she does this stuff for gay people, not as a gay person."_

_"How do you know?"_

_"Yuffie asked me out when she joined cheerleading her Freshman year. And her Sophomore year. And the beginning of this year. The likelihood of her being serious with Tifa is...well, not likely. But she's lonely; her parents are never home, much like Riku's. But they turned out rather different. At this point for her, anyone will do to keep her loneliness at bay. And maybe it will turn out that she loves Tifa, but she doesn't right now."_

* * *

The demi-gods and hungry ghosts and whatever Lord above or below all know we aren't at home. But you, you know better than all of them, know better than anyone, including the Wolf who took us.

"I looked into your eyes that day, and I saw a world I wished I could live in. I knew I'd never find someone quite as touched as you. That I'd never love someone like you. Or, at least, I wouldn't receive their love. Because I'd already fallen, but you weren't there to catch me."

"You two are going crazy, here. Can you say something that's not cryptic, for once?" Seifer scowls. Seifer actually looks better with that scar, on second thought. It makes him look stronger, braver somehow. I know that no matter how similar mine is, it does not have the same effect.

"He isn't being cryptic," I defend.

"What does he mean, then."

"Axel wanted someone broken, not to fix them. Not to fix them, but to cherish the shards of what was left. He loved me, but I didn't return it. If I hadn't been with Cloud, I never would have been broken; never would have caught his eye. Yet, because of Cloud, he also could not have me."

It's a strange concept. It's a strange situation. But, after a week, I don't see it that way.

"Not that people like me can love, right? No, I never loved Larxene, and I don't love you. I'm just pretty when I lie," The redhead laughs. Not that you can tell he has red hair, in this dark room, it looks more brown than anything. "What was that line you used to describe us, again?"

"'The Nile's edge is the holder of the three doors of the betwixt world: the first speaks of truth, the last speaks of fear. When the betwixt door of the betwixt world speaks, it speaks of love.' It wasn't to describe us, though. I don't remember why I brought it up."

But I do. I do know why I brought it up. I just don't remember the context. It was 'The Nile's edge' where Seifer marked me, where I marked Seifer.

* * *

_"Are you sure this is alright?"_

_"Of course it is; no one ever comes here."_

_"That was my point. If one of us gets hurt, no one will be there to help."_

_Seifer tilts his head, fine, pale brows raised. "Then don't hurt me, and I won't hurt you."_

_And, at first, everything was fine. The river silent in its frozen state. But Seifer slipped, my sword moving against his, and I couldn't stop the blade from grazing his arm, blood dripping slowly at the white of his coat. Regaining his balance, he drags Hyperion lightly across my face, enough to bleed, enough to scar, but not enough to do anything serious. I pull my hand from the torn flesh, blood staining it as sure as the snow falls around us. I look up at him in disbelief. He gestures to continue, and I drag Lionheart up his face, the inversion of the mark he left me._

_And he smiles._

_And I don't understand._

_And his parents will hate me when they go to bury him._

_We talk a while after that, by the frozen river, Prynille River. And I understood. "This is my mark on the world. The mark you gave me will follow me to my grave. But people will see yours. And they'll wonder: 'What happened to that guy?' But you'll know. And I'll know. Seifer Almasy happened to that guy. And Squall Leonhart happened to this one. It's my last connection to this world. Kind of an honor, after you get past the fact that people are going to stare at it the rest of your life huh?"_

_And it is. It's the highest honor I could have. And he was saying that jokingly._

_If I listen closely, I can hear the sound of a dying dream. It was your dream, Cloud. It was Seifer._

* * *

That was my mental vacation to another time. But right now I'm on vacation in the land of shame, in a Hell where it freezes, and if I listen closely, that dying dream is here with me, quiet as he is, on the other side of the room.

But I'm not listening for your dying dream, because the Wolf is with me.

"Didn't I tell you, Squall? The more you shake, the more you give away. It's really such a shame, that I have to go by your body language, since you won't talk to me. But I would know anyway. You would say you aren't scared of me, but I would know you are; you tremble so hard. And no one likes a liar, Squall, no one at all. That's why we hate you so much, because you lied to us. Just like that one," he inclines his head to the dying dream across the basement. "Didn't your mother tell you not to lie before she died?" the Wolf chides.

"I don't...have a mother. I never...never had a mother..."

"I'm sure you did, one day. And your going to reunite with her soon, if she is where I believe she is," the Wolf laughs. Then he exits.

And we are alone, the dying dream, the broken boy, and the pretty liar. Even together, we are alone.

* * *

_That day with Seifer, that day we sparred, marked each other, and swore we'd meet again on the other side, that was the day the Wolf collected us. Our swords stabbed into the 'Nile,' the promise to spar soon again now a promise we will die together, Hyperion and Lionheart will sink to its depths come fall. They will drown long after we already had. __The forest around it would come to burn at the end of Winter, long after something inside my already had._

_That day the broken boy realized he would never find all the pieces to his broken life. If he makes it out of this alive, though, years later he might try to build a new one._

* * *

A/N:So, this chapter is basically written backwards. I know it's hard to follow, so if you have questions, you can leave a review or PM me and I will answer in the next chapter's author's note. I think I'm going to try to wrap this up in three to five more chapters and there will be an epilogue. Also 1,000+ views?! Thank you everyone! I remember when this story first started, it took me three chapters to get 100 views. _Three!_ It means a lot that my story has gotten so much attention, even though we don't have many followers (I suspect this is because we have so many guest readers, thank you guys, as well~).

Aww, Lord, don't worry about it; I appreciate your advice, as I'm new here. Your continuous support and feedback for this story means a lot to me ^_^ Also, I know some things didn't get much explanation, like Riku's relationship with Leon last chapter and Leon's premature (and rather rude, at that) leaving. Basically, Leon was there to help take care of Riku in the absence of his family, and they became rather close, so Riku felt left behind when the guy he looked up to left the picture. I didn't want to write in too much detail, because Riku isn't a very big part of the story, as I'm writing his and Vanitus' part in a different story (if you'd like, I'll PM you when I get around to writing that story). Also, it would be kind of hard to have Leon explain directly why he left so soon, so I was kind of hoping there was enough indirect pointers to let you guys guess, but it seems that didn't work (whoops...) Leon left so soon because the memory is so painful for him, he physically needed to remove himself from the mention of it. It is vaguely implied that Shiva and Griever were put down after this incident ('And, as you could guess, I haven't seen them since'). Also, being traumatized by a dog at such a young age (they lived in Balamb before Prynne, Tracy killed herself in Prynne when Leon was 12, so he was at most 12 when Cerberus attacked him.) I hope this helped solved some of the puzzles in your mind. ^_^

Thank you for making it to this chapter, all you lovely people, in the present and the future, I hope you enjoyed~


	23. Chapter 23

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

I'd been keeping track of the days. It's January 27th today. It's not a very useful skill, in a death or death situation. But it kept me sane.

For the most part, that is...

There's broken glass all over the floor. On the first day, I found it annoying, unable to move without something tearing at exposed flesh. I didn't really think about how I could use it to tear at the rope until last night, and that's all I've been able to focus on since then.

"There was a time you would never let me do this to you," the Wolf muses tilting my head to force my eyes to him. "There was a time when no matter the odds, you would fight your hardest, and -damn- were you amazing. We would win games because of you, and we loved you -oh, how we loved you. Most people _feared _you, even. So stoic, unbreakable. What happened, Squall? I know you aren't dead, yet, your heart is pounding and you tremble so hard, how you tremble... You fear me, yet you continue to be a martyr. 'Don't touch Seifer!' 'Don't touch Axel!'" he pauses a dramatic pause to laugh a dramatic laugh. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you _like_ this." He continues his ministrations, my eyes sliding closed in disgust. At Quinn, at me; I don't know anymore. I continue sliding the glass against the bond, occasionally cutting myself with it on accident. It's quiet for a while, and I can hear Axel whimper somewhere in the background.

Axel... I'm sorry... It's my fault you got dragged into this... And Seifer, too. If he hadn't been with me that day, he wouldn't-

"Always with your internal monologues, Squall," the Wolf chides. "What do you think about all the time?"

"...How much I hate you."

The Wolf moves a warning hand to my neck. "No one likes a liar, Squall. Not one person. No, you had that self pitying look on your face. What were you really thinking?"

A tear slides down, I curse it all the way down. "I'm sorry, Axel," I say, just loud enough to let him hear. He cries harder.

"You're beautiful when you cry, Squall, did anyone ever tell you that? It's not over-dramatized, or obnoxious. It's subtle, just enough to let me know I'm doing something right."

I feel the binds loosen behind me, testing enough to go unnoticed by Quinn, but enough to let me know it's broken. "Are you as beautiful when you bleed?"

"Wha-?"

Remaining sanity at 28%.

Red. Everywhere. Covering Quinn, and the floor I was on seconds ago, but miraculously avoiding me. The scene is a familiar one, albeit with less shards of bone. In horror flicks, they want you to believe that blood is bright, no matter the circumstances. That's not true. Blood is the darkest of crimson, only darker in the poorly lit room. It's my favorite color, and my least favorite at the same time, but anyone who could have seen the Wolf right now would have agreed: it looks best on Quinn. The glass embeds deep in his throat, cleanly slicing an artery. You can tell, because the way it comes in spurts, and he can't stop it, regardless the pressure he applies. I love Health class. How would I have known to stop? I still want to do more. Want to mutilate him, to make him writhe.

Remaining sanity at 16%.

But I don't.

I'm better than that. I'm above him. I'm above needless torture.

I untie Seifer and Axel, who rub their wrists.

"What do we do?" Seifer asks, in some type of shock.

"We wait for him to bleed out. We wrap him, take him deep into the woods. We burn him. We bury his remains. We wait for tomorrow. And we burn the house down. Then: we get the fuck out of here faster than bats from Hell, and never talk about it again."

Remaining sanity at 4%.

I walk over to the draining body, pushing him, forcing him face-down to the ground, sending the shard deeper into the future corpse. He writhes. "Hey, Quinn? Don't you know? The more you shake, the more you give away."

Remaining sanity: System failure.

* * *

"Seifer, the alcohol," I pour it over the Wolf, slowly, memorizing the feel of what it is to bury the evidence of death. "Axel, the matches?"

I drop it on the lifeless form once known as Quinn Boudaikian. We all watch on, myself the only one not choking on the fumes of death, which -I speculate- must be worse than usual, considering the rancid kind of trash he was. I regard it all with an unapologetic apathy. It feels like the men behind me are breathing for me, but I don't want them to, undeserving of sympathy. There's no way that I'm sorry for what I did. And that should scare me.

But it doesn't.

After all, I'd been killing things my entire life. Cerberus. Griever and Shiva... And of course Tracy, how do you forget a foster mother like that? I'd been staining my hands scarlet since I was a child. He wasn't the first. Won't be the last. But he certainly is the worst. I light a cigarette, The heady scent of Marlboro filling my lungs. My hands lose their subtle tremor at the familiar drug striking my nerves, soothing them. I start on the hole. "Anyone feel the need to say a prayer for that burning fucker over there?" I take the silence as a no. "Good."

* * *

I pour three shots. "A drink, for this horror. Before we set fire to it."

I'll never forget what Axel said, mostly because it's so out of place. "You know, you're kind of kick ass."

I don't feel kick ass. I feel murderous.

The burning cabin feels somehow more mortifying to watch burn than Quinn. A burning house was a bad omen, where I'd come from. Symbolizing the failure of home life. If I dropped the match, I wonder what that says about it. My home life had already failed. If it meant anything, that was it. Or it could simply mean that we had to destroy DNA. Because I killed someone, and all. I guess it's just one more thing to add to the list of monsters that I've been.

Blood that we can't see runs down the walls of my soul, Quinn creeping up and down the halls of it. He and I have been some bad motherfuckers, our Senior year. And it led to his demise.

Axel has Reno track his phone, and we're gone. Bloodied, bruised, and scarred for life. But gone.

If someone told you my Senior year of high school was a happy tale, somebody lied to you. You never know when some lunatic will come along and fuck everything up in the most sadistic way he can.

* * *

"Where have you been?!" you cry.

"I was...out with the boys."

You falter. "It's been two weeks...What happened?"

"I can't tell you. All I can say is: I killed a wolf."

And you understand. You always understand. And you always stand by me, even though you know. Maybe you justified it. Or maybe you don't care. Or maybe it's as simple as the phrase you say as you embrace me.

"I love you, Leon."

You love me so it doesn't matter.

"I love you, too, Cloud. But I have a question that might make you stop."

"Nothing could ever make me stop," you sob, pulling me closer. I hold you just as close. I'm here. For you. Always by your side.

"I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me, Cloud? Next month, I'm eighteen. And with parental consent, it would be a legal, valid marriage. I don't care about legality or validity. But, I want you to wear my ring, and boast my last name. And I want you to wear pants, so everyone knows exactly what we are, and not care what they think."

You went rigid at the word 'marry,' but I'm not concerned. You would have pulled away at some point by now if you were going to say no. "Are you...serious?"

"I wouldn't joke about this."

"I've never really considered marriage before, Leon. Never really wanted to get married to anyone. But...I believe that you and I can get through anything. So, yeah...I guess I can stick around the rest of my life."

You hold on so tight, it hurts. But I'm not complaining. It makes me feel real. And kind of high, at the same time.

* * *

The reflection of February snow is just enough to light the curtain, which is just enough to drive me crazy. I want it to be dark. I want to brood, forever, and ever. I want to cry, but I can't. All I can do is hold the limp body, knowing it will never live again. One thousand Summers would not be enough to melt this Winter in my heart. You reach for the phone. "No." You look at me, tears falling everywhere. "Don't. Don't call it in, yet. Just a little longer...please, Cloud..."

And you set it back down.

And I hold him. For a long time. A long, silent time, that could never be long enough.

He watched me kill a man, then he died right next to me while we all slept on, him in a much deeper fashion.

Yeah, Seifer was just sleeping. I'm cuddling with a friend who hasn't woken up. Because he's never going to wake up again. Not to this world.

And not to another. You don't get Heaven or Hell for living. The only reward you get for living is dying.

* * *

Sora won't come to Seifer's funeral. Neither will Roxas. They 'didn't know him.' Actually... "We hated him," Roxas finally admits, after twenty minutes of prodding. "In fact, I'm _glad_ he's dead."

Raijin doesn't come (thankfully), because Fujin told him not to, that Seifer hated him. And he did. After what Raijin did with Quinn, Seifer would occasionally bad-mouth the teen, but preferred not to talk about him at all most of the time.

But Riku comes. And of course, Axel does. A friend from another city even comes, to honor the fallen blond. He carries the front of the casket on the left side, opposite Seifer's father. Behind the friend, Vanitus, is you. Behind you, me. On the other side, Axel behind Seifer's father, Riku behind him. No strangers had to carry him to the grave. Death watched all the while. I felt him, eyes on all of us, grading our work, deciding who should be next for his eternal detention class. He was under a willow, spider lilies all around. He was with a wolf. No, he was with _the_ Wolf.

We drink heavily, tonight. Riku even manages social etiquette, to a degree. Strangely enough, with the stranger. Everyone drinks for different reasons. To forget, to sooth, to be polite. I drink for all the things that he never told me. I drink for all the wounds that will ever scar me. I drink for all the smiles that will ever haunt me. And...for all the ghosts that will never catch me. If anyone bothered to come looking for us, they'd find us at the gate. But no one does.

_If I died, we might be together... Or we might not... One day, I'll be him. In a different box. In a different cemetery, too._

"Leon, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. It's just raining, Cloud."

"No it-"

"Trust me, Cloud. It's raining."

* * *

I don't feel the needle. The only time I feel anymore is when you touch me. The ink? I only know it marks me if I look to see Reno inscribing the letters and numbers into my shoulder. I will never forget Seifer Alexander Almasy again. That boy from my childhood who always teased me so often. That victim who shared my trauma. That witness who watched me stab Quinn. And kill him. That **friend** who died in my arms on the 28th, who I carried to his final bed on the 6th and buried him.

He was at our bed last night. He was praying. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hold him. But I couldn't move. And then...what happened after that? I can't remember. It was black, and I was falling for what felt like ever, landing in my body and waking up.

But I heard him. "Save me a place, hmm? Then maybe I'll tell you about some romantic fantasies you can steal."

I can only assume he was talking about the wedding. I think we should wait a while, now, but everyone else seems to think something else, including Riku and his new friend. He looks kind of like Sora, if I think about it...the facial structure, the size. Even the hairstyles were similar. "It's actually the best time for a marriage. It gives people something nice to talk about, for a change. I wouldn't oppose that," Riku advises. You think whatever I think is best. Way to ditch responsibility...

I smoke half a cigarette. Half. Maybe even less. But I don't crave it, after that. That's all I really need. If someone had told me in September that Seifer could hurt me so bad by leaving me alone, I would have huffed and walked away. I had never really known anything about Seifer. I had never known anything about Quinn, either. And now, I find I can't even trust myself to know what lies beneath the skin, other than this black ink. The ink in my shoulder, the ink in my heart.

Anything I do is really just asking to be alone or to be with you. I'm lost without you, really.

I dance with the devils under the pale light of the moon, whipping me to tell me how to move, but I don't feel it. For the first time in my life, in this physical numbness and emotional coma, I understand why people would cut themselves. The devils play a song at night that makes me want to.

* * *

I finally know what to do for my final. I wake up with the image in my head. I outline a less gruesome version of it, and bring out the acrylics. The canvas is finished in six hours. Two little boys petting the cloaked man's dog. Two little boys petting Death's wolf. It 'speaks' to Erik. I used to think I knew what that meant. But I didn't. Art doesn't speak to people. Death speaks to people. Ghosts speak to people.

This canvas does not speak to Erik. This canvas does not speak to you. This canvas does not speak to me.

It does not speak to the living. It speaks _for_ the dead. But not to anyone, not to us. And we couldn't hear it, if it tried.

It can haunt people, though. It haunts me every night. From the desk. From the other room. From the closet. Like Quinn. Like Tracy. Like Seifer.

I take the familiar action of setting fire to it, and it haunts me still, from its ashen grave.

* * *

A/N: So, I didn't get any questions, and I'm just going to assume you guys know what's going on. But I'll still answer them until the story is finished.


	24. Chapter 24

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

_It's distorted here, in the Dreamland, mostly from age and repression, but it's accurate enough to remember the pain._

_"He was my _son_, Leon. But Rodger wanted you," Tracy sobs. "I hate you, Leon."_

_"I know, Mom."_

_"I am not your mother!" I feel like someone else said that about their son to me..._

_"It's okay. I understand."_

_"You understand nothing! What? What could you possibly understand?! I want to know!"_

_What did I know? I didn't understand anything, even after listening to her talk about it for an hour. I didn't know why she hated me so much._

_"I understand you didn't want me, because my dad was bad to you. But I won't be bad to you, Tracy. I'll make up for it. You can hurt me, like he hurt you." That's what I said that day, but I didn't even know how he hurt her. Later, I still would still be no closer to understanding why she hated me so, the only clue being Sora and I sharing a father. "And, if that's not enough, you can take my life. I'd do anything for you, Mom."_

_"Don't call me that!" she screamed, the barrel shaking at my temple._

_I wasn't scared. It sounds silly, but I wasn't. I didn't know what death was, didn't know what there was to fear. Even now, after taking the life of another, I don't fully understand what death is. What it is to die._

_"Mom? Where are you?" Sora shouted, turning the handle. She lowered the gun from my head, then brought it to her own. And there was blood. There was so much blood, all at once. Covering her and the floor, but miraculously avoiding me._

* * *

"Leon, why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying, Cloud."

"Okay..."

I hold your hand. That's all I really need. A hand to hold. So I don't fall over the edge and on to the rocks below.

"Baby, it's cold out here. Come back in with me."

"Yeah...you're right."

It _is_ cold outside. Because it's raining. Because it's the beginning of Spring, and somehow the flecks of water had gotten under my eyes.

"Most people weren't meant to change the world. But you changed my life, and I never want you to forget that, Cloud," I say, holding you from behind.

"Leon?"

"Don't worry; I'm fine. I just want you to know."

The cat rubs against our legs after a moment. "Her name is Treason."

"Huh?"

"To signify the death of the ruler of our terror, I've decided to name our cat Treason."

"Oh. I guess it's good to have something to call her besides 'the cat,'" you smile. "Now she won't sound like a burden when we talk about her."

* * *

Yuffie fidgets beside me, the empty stadium reflecting every shift. We lost almost every game this year. "I...I heard about the engagement. I guess this means I can't be asking you out anymore," she laughs nervously.

"Your right to free speech remains. What you do with it is what worries me," I say, flicking ashes from the cigarette.

She watches her hands, perhaps debating if she should say more. She shouldn't. But, true to her nature, she does. "I don't know what to do, anymore... I tried everything to make you see me, and then...you end up proposing to some guy you met half a year ago. You turn out to be gay, after I've devoted over half of my high school career to trying to make you see me... I even tried to evoke some jealousy, got a partner for myself. Thought that maybe if I was less available, you might want me more... And, now that it's finally time to give up, I don't know what to do!" she cries. "And Tifa...I feel so bad for what I've done to her... What do I tell her, Leon? What do I do? What would you do? I feel like dying..."

"I'm not Jesus, Kisaragi. I don't pretend to be. But...I know a few things about contrition, having more than enough to go around. My advice won't be very good, because I've never gotten myself into a fuck-up quite like yours. All I can really say is: you have a choice. Move on from her, or don't. It's not my problem. It's none my business how you _handle_ your problems. But you can tell Tifa and try working things out, or you can break it off -quick and painless. I can say that the best things in life are won fighting for. And, lastly: I can pass the advice of a true warrior: 'There is no glory in forfeiting a fight, and your life is a glory you should always fight for.' No matter what you do with all that is your choice. I'm just going to hope you make the right ones."

"But what would you _do_?"

"...I would tell her that I don't love her, but that I could try to learn to. I would try to learn to live with my sins. And, I would get a shrink; I hear that does wonders." I wrap an arm around her shoulders, but don't really pull her any closer. I don't want to be close to her. Yet, also... "I don't want you to die, Yuffie. A lot of souls left me here, a little lonelier than they found me. A little more broken. I don't want you to join them. I don't want to be the reason why you join them. I don't want to see it anymore. I don't want to hurt you. Or anyone else. But I know that any path to find happiness for my self will cause you pain. We both know where I'm going after this, and there is no point in denying it. I love Cloud, and as long as I can have him, I will hang on to him. You should find someone like that for yourself. I'm not that person. More likely than not, Tifa is not that person. Love yourself, and someone will love you more. I will never be that 'someone'. Be strong, Yuffie. People like that kind of quality. Or don't, people like that, too."

* * *

You're waiting at the bench when I get back. "Been here long?"

"Not very. But, it felt like hours."

Your hand brushes mine, and I can't stop a twitch at the contact. You pull it away, getting the message. It's not so nice anymore, is it? Now my body's so polluted. 'Rough around the edges.' My body...my mind... My agonies.

I must have been a horrible person, if there was a past life. Because who else deserves so much pain? It could have been so much better if only I had been born a rat. I could have just gotten crushed by a metal trap, or starved glued to the adhesive kind. Anything would be better than that simple, involuntary jerk of my hand. Call my old matron and Rodger, to help you bury me with Seifer. Your hand grasps mine, firmly this time, and you stare. What are you thinking? What do you want me to do? I don't know how to deal with this. We don't talk, because we feel the tension, afraid it could shatter, and hit us with a bad mood vibe.

"Don't." One simple word. The English contraction of 'do' and 'not.' It could be used so many ways, even in this situation. But you know what I'm talking about. I can tell, by the way your lips curve downward, ever so slightly. I wouldn't have seen it, if I didn't know where to look. You tug at my hand, pulling me closer. "Stop!"

"Is it so hard to let me love you anymore, Squall? Can't I touch you first? Can't I talk to you? You never tell me how you're feeling anymore. As if you_ don't fucking feel at all_. Tell me, Squall. Say it. Right fucking now, Leonhart, tell me. What's making you tick? What's got you so wound up? Because it's _not_ me. It's your goddamn head you're locked in, and if you can't find sanctity there, it's because you don't want to. My hand _brushes_ yours, and I may as well be the motherfucking _Grim Reaper,_ seductively running his hands down your chest." It's all quiet. There is emphasis, but it's barely above a whisper. Like it's an altercation in a library. I've never heard you cuss so much in under an hour, forget forty-five seconds. Pale brows shift to a neutral position, lips pouting further, eyes finding monochrome tiles. "It's amazing, really; how I can be inches from you and you're still the distance of the farthest star. Is there really no way to reach you? Are you already gone?"

"I'm not gone, Cloud. I never left you. But I fear for you. You are so...perfect, really. I'm scarred I might corrupt you. Or worse, I might not meet your expectations, and you'll run from me."

"Leon... Baby, look at me." I conform. Your eyes...flawless. The glowing form of an electric blue lake, a calm surface. Refusing to bow to the winds above. Yet, a storm rages beneath. "I have one expectation of you. Do you know what it is?" I shake my head. "I expect you to love me. Through thick and thin, and everywhere between. No matter what. Because I'll _die_ if you don't."

Thunder crackles outside and I flinch and cling to you, and you hold me closer. The bells ring, classes flooding all around us. But we don't matter to them. And they don't matter to us. That world Axel mentioned, the one I live in, I live in it with you. You, and no one else.

But, every once in a while, we have to invite someone else in, for a period. "Let's go talk to your monster in law."

* * *

"What do you want?" those were the first words Claudia Strife said to me, over the phone. They are also the first words she says to me in person, standing in the doorway, eyeing her (disowned) son warily.

"We just have some forms we need signed," I answer, holding up the papers non-threateningly.

"I don't know what you're after, but I'm not listening."

"Mom," a familiar dirty blond head says, toweling his head. "Just listen to them. You might actually like some of the ideas they present." He throws the cloth a random direction, pulling his coat from the rack. "I'm meeting some friends in Vitum." You frown at this development. In a gesture to you, Roxas pulls his arms back, a silent 'What?!' filling the air. What a brat. But, I can't say I don't understand. I'd chosen a similar path at his age, never mind the 'friends' I'd made.

After a long time explaining and many rather redundant questions, Mrs. Strife asks her final question. "Why should I even support this 'marriage' you two are talking about?"

"If I marry Cloud, I become his legal guardian. You won't have to answer to things concerning him anymore."

A little more argument and explanation, and the papers are signed, a 'good riddance,' uttered somewhere along the way.

"Cloud, where was your father?" I ask in the car.

"20 to life in the State Penitentiary for...well, the 'for' doesn't really matter," you reply bitterly. I don't press. "Are we really doing this?"

"You backing out, Tough Guy?"

"Been a while since I heard that one," you smile. "I just want to be able to touch you before we have a ritual like that. So we won't be on opposite sides of the bed on that night, like we were last night. I'm...not him, you know; it should feel good when I touch you. It shouldn't hurt you, like it seems to."

"It doesn't. It's just a reflex."

"Then let's wear that reflex of yours out. I want you to touch me, and I want to touch you."

There is a sudden clarity to any mystery surrounding you. I remember, now. You were...the 'home-wrecker' of the Strife household, right? Because your father...then Rinoa's father...

"Leon? Where are you?"

"Sorry, spacing out."

Even still, I can't change the way I feel for you. That was the past; it's not real anymore. It's gone, only unpleasant memories that go undwelled remain. But this...this thing we have, this is real. It's alive, it breathes, it moves to the rhythm we have, the rhythm we make. Two hearts beating into one. That was abuse. But this, this is love.

* * *

A/N: Things are getting better, and the story's so close to an ending. A _happy_ ending that is long due for Leon and Cloud.

Lord: Yeah, I know everything sort of changed quickly. It's mostly to reflect Leon's dissociated state of mind; to him, everything is evil except Cloud, he doesn't want to think about the good parts of them. He doesn't want to think about how, even if it isn't real, Roxas does provide Sora happiness, or how Yuffie is extremely brave -all things considered-, or how, in spite of how twisted a way, Axel really does care for him. The abruptness is representative of how quickly he discounts the events prior to the abduction. I was hoping it might be well perceived, to have an abrupt twist rather than having him walk through it, step by step. If you'd like, I could rewrite the last little bits, but I would ask for further tips about how to go about it, because I don't really know what other people like (after all, we watch things like _Silence of the Lambs_, where I live).

Sis: I'm sorry for all the disappointments these last few chapters have presented, I know it's confusing and all, but I'm trying to make Leon explain the things running through his mind (which is clearly a clusterfucked mess with everything going on, so -naturally- he's not making much sense). Also, yes the dialogue from the other chapter does get confusing. When I read your review, I was like 'Tony? The Hell is that about? Dante is not in this story...' so, thanks for clarifying. And, yes, everyone wants Leon in some form xD After all, he was a first-pick football star (who are the team captains in my town), and so, of course, he was admired a great deal. Also, Cloud is getting reigned back in for the final chapters; the big finish is centered around the two! The epilogue has a mystery character, who I'll let you guess about for a while... :3 Also, I changed the summary, so people could get a better idea of how the story actually turns out, not sure if you noticed.

This is a very messed up story. Just in case you guys didn't get the memo, by now. But, the messed up parts are mostly over, now. I'm glad you all made it this far, the suffrage is just about finished, by now. I hope you enjoyed it ^_^


	25. Chapter 25

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

* * *

"You can't get married in Converse, Squall."

"It's _our_ wedding, Sora. If we wanted to, we could get married in cowboy boots and play the entire soundtrack of _Broke Back Mountain_."

"You've never even seen that movie!" the nuisance of a little brother counters.

"You don't need to see a movie to get its soundtrack."

"You are _not_ getting married in Converse. Right Riku?"

"What's wrong with Converse? At least they could wear those again. Why would they wear dress shoes again?"

Sora buries his head in his hands. "Isn't it supposed to be special, or whatever?"

"What could be more special than a wedding in Converse?" you throw in. "No one gets married in Converse. That's special."

Even though Roxas had come and gone, Sora seemed to be getting on just fine. He was hurt, of course. It never took much to hurt Sora emotionally. But, the day you win a fight with such a kindred spirit is the day you wished you let them win. It's no different for Roxas. As for Roxas...well, he's figuring things out for himself, and only he can do that. He is...accepted in Xemnas Faustes' ring of friends. But, he's starting to question things more, and that's the best place to start crossing the tracks to our side.

It's a good day to live. A good day to laugh. A good day to be with you. How I'd relearned to do all that...well, it was a long journey. But: it was worth it. The best things in life are earned; you have to fight for them. I had fought demons, both inside myself, and outside myself. They will never hurt you or I again, I refuse to let them. The feral glow cannot frighten me. The steeled chains cannot hold me. The malicious whips cannot mar me. Certainly, I am no saint. But I need not be a saint to be yours. There is love between us. Beyond what they can see, or what we can verbally express. Beneath the skin, beneath the soul. But, we understand, the slightest caress is eternal love. The smallest glances are complete understanding. The quietest words are heard better than gunfire. We hear each other without speaking. You are me and I am you, blending together to fill the void of the other. It feels so long ago now, what you said when I asked you how you trust people. But I remember, well enough. You believe there are still people to be trusted, because of me.

And inappropriate relationships with fathers, trauma with foster mothers, and monsters like Quinn aren't something that seem to matter at this point. The things of the past are meant to lie in the past. To forget the bad and cherish the good.

* * *

Axel smiles. Yuffie cries. Rodger shifts. Aerith nods. Riku holds Vanitus' hand. And us... we look perfectly out of place on the alter, in our black slacks and high-tops with unbuttoned blazers. Out of place, but happy. Ecstatic, even. The best I'd been in a very, very long time. Blushing, giddy, and loving every moment, like every last butterfly that ever died had been come to life in my abdomen. Which is kind of scary to think about, but I can't think about it anyway, not with you looking so perfect in front of me.

The Reaper is not with us today. And, if he was, we wouldn't fear. Because we know he has to take us in a set, and that would just be too much to deal with, with our current energy.

The kiss is short, as not to freak out the few guests that had come. We'll make up for it later.

* * *

"When Leon and Cloud came out as 'boyfriends,' I was surprised. Not many people can affect him so fast. So, for the most part, I was surprised by the engagement. These two were made for each other. To a happily ever after most are too afraid to embrace," Erik praises.

"This guy used to care so much about people, that he didn't even care about people. But, he pulled through for me the night that I needed it most, and I'm going to be thanking him for it the rest of our lives. To finding a soulmate," you announce.

"Uh-huh," I say at my turn, the laughter dying down. "Well, 'this guy' over here had known me for less than forty-eight hours before he introduced me to the potential of his androgyny, he was so confident I would accept him. And you know what? I did. To unconditional love."

For the first time in forever, everything goes as planned. Everything except the empty seat beside you, where Seifer should be sitting. He wanted to be here, but Death had taken him away. I grasp your hand, rubbing your knuckles with an affectionate smile, that you understand means we feel the same.

At the end of it all, Axel drenches eight flowers in hairspray. "This will keep them from dying. I know you wanted him here...I did, too... Go see him. But, don't take too long, you gotta do your wedding thing and all." He winks. He's not sad, anymore. About me, anyway. He hasn't moved on, but he doesn't need to. We're like normal friends. Normal friends...with a dark secret. But I don't linger on that. the redhead is finding his way through the darkness, and doing a better job than most. He runs through the storm, in the hopes a brighter day will come. And it will, just not yet. He needs to wrestle a few more devils before he makes it to the other side and finds his rainbow.

And everything is right by the end of the night. An hour's visit with Seifer, and two days in the best hotel Vitum has. Yes, the only way it would have been better is if the emerald-eyed man's body had been living and been with us... But I couldn't have asked for a perfect wedding day and expected anything more than what we have. We have love. From two broken men, trying to put the pieces back together, but happy as they are.

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A/N: So, no Honeymoon...I felt like it would ruin the vibe I had going. Epilogue is next! Then we're done! Wahoo~~~ Most of you probably didn't catch this, but Leon inverted his past quote on how he sees memories, just a fun fact that shows you how far he's come to being a happier person. (:

Sis: Don't worry about complaints! I love every review, and I'm glad you liked this. Yes, Cloud and Leon are very reliant on each other, here, and not just that, but they feel the need to support each other through these difficult times, which is how I think they would feel about any pairing you could put them in ^_^ Also, I didn't want Yuffie to seem as two dimensional as she'd been coming off in the story. Honestly, there was an entire subplot I had with her, but I dropped it because it felt so unnecessary. that little bit with her in the last chapter was the only thing I kept from the original idea, and it was extremely modified from its original, as the subplot never went through. Also, this might throw you off wanting to read it, but _Loving Corpses_ is kind of Cloud/everyone (you'll understand when you get there), but the focus is Cloud/Seph. I hope you still give it a try ^_^

Thank you all so much for your support for my first continued work on here, you have all been so helpful and good to me. I'm sorry it wasn't any better than this, but I did do my best for you, when it really got going. I appreciate it. And I'm kind of sad this story is ending, but that just means I'll move on to my other recent work: _Loving Corpses_, and have to try harder and make it better. You're all great.


	26. Epilogue

Title: Expectations  
Summary: Society thinks you're a freak. But me? I don't know what to think.  
Warnings: boy/boy, bullying  
Pairings: Leon/Cloud  
Disclaimer: Characters and settings are not mine

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In five years of marriage, I have the life I never dreamed I could achieve. And -mostly- everyone else does, too. At twenty-four, Axel finally gets his broken boy at the end of the rainbow; a kid who's suffered the life of a thug and figured out he could be so much more: Roxas. Alongside the blond-once-redhead, he really can. Damaged, true, but cared for. By twenty-two, Yuffie learned how to love herself enough to be with the ravenette woman who owns the unbreakable spirit: Tifa. Also twenty-two, Riku gains confidence, and though he stumbles, Vanitus is always there to brush him off with a mild tease and a golden smile. And Sora? Well, he had finally learned the difference between 'pretty' and 'handsome,' apparently finding he liked the former best, settling down with the nice girl he so often disregarded in childhood: Kairi.

Ours is my favorite, though. Married happily with a twelve-year-old son: Denzel. "Hey, how was school, tough guy?" I ask, kneeling to embrace our adoptive son.

"Good."

"You need to stop calling one of us that," you complain from the desk, removing glasses and replacing them in an attempt to decide if that's _really_ what it says. "It's kind of weird."

"Fine, Denzel can be tough guy; you're a pansy," I mock. This time you take off the thin frames for dramatization, as if to say 'Oh, really?' I smirk; 'Yeah, really.' you roll your eyes, returning your gaze to the screen.

"Hey, Leon? How did you get that mark on your face?"

I consider an abridged version. A happier, G-rated version, that completely disregards Quinn 'the Quarterback' Boudaikian. I figure a way around it. "Let me tell you about a man named Seifer. Once upon a cold Autumn night, I met that lovely blond at the desk. Since the moment he was known to exist, everyone had expectations of him..."

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A/N: My baby (woah, I'm talking about the fic!)...it's all grown up T~T They really do grow up too fast. I hope you enjoyed the final installment of _Expectations_. No, really, it's over... Feel free to leave me a review, they are muchly appreciated...

Thank you die-hards who made it this far, a special thanks to Lord and Sis, who left me so many reviews, you made my decade.


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